Blue Eyed Doe
by InfiniteDragon
Summary: Harry, shattered by Ginny's death during the Battle of Hogwarts, retreats from public life, even from almost all contact with the Weasleys. But he is not the only one with scars. Six months later he comes across a witch who may be more damaged than he...
1. Chap 1  Alone?

Greetings, all! Before we get into the actual fic, I have a few quick things to say. First, this fic is AU branching from near the end of DH. The big change is that Ginny died in her fight against Bellatrix. Everything flows (loosely) from that, though it's not all related.  
>Second, this fic is totally complete. It's not all going to be posted at once, but if I don't forget, you can expect regular (weekly or bi-weekly) updates until it's all here. There's ten chapters and a short epilogue, which I'll likely post at the same time as 10.<p>

Third, I am not dropping any other fics, nor will I ever. I wrote this while in a dry spell for my other stuff, so no whinging about it please. :)

Fourth, it's Harry/Lavender, as you should be able to see above. There are mentions of Harry/Ginny, but as I said before, Gin's dead. The whole Harry/Lavender thing isn't changing, since the story's complete.  
>Lastly, this story is M for a reason. There are three scenes of graphic(ish) sex, none of which has a warning to alert you. Hopefully I'll remember to let you know in each chapter's AN, but no promises. Honestly, if you aren't comfortable reading it, you probably shouldn't be here since aside from the graphics, sex is discussed rather frankly throughout the second half. It's not a kid story. On top of that, there's also a few violent flashbacks, and so on. Move along if it doesn't appeal to you rather than flame me (uselessly), although, as always, actual critiques are more than welcome.

Enjoy the first chapter of Blue-Eyed Doe!

**Chap. 1 Alone?**

Harry Potter, resident of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London, woke up in a cold sweat for the second time that night. With an exasperated, exhausted sigh, the young man- only just now a man in the muggle world- glanced at the dim green light of the only non-magical appliance he'd been able to make function in his home, a solitary alarm clock. _Three fifteen... I slept a whole hour more than usual before _that_ dream tonight. Damn it... Gin..._

Rising, the raven-haired man sighed again, this time with an odd combination of frustration, resignation, and outright depression. He knew, in some part of his mind, that this behavior was both unhealthy and even life-threatening if it went on too long. Normal people did not live on four hours of sleep a night. They did not wake up with horriffic nightmares every single night. Normal people... they were not Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-Again, or as he was known in some circles, The-Wanker-Who-Ruined-Us.  
>Yes, there were still Death Eaters, the followers of the recently vanquished Dark Lord, Voldemort, around. The vast majority had been killed at the Battle of Hogwarts, even more had been rounded up in a world-wide manhunt over the next few months, but he knew full well some were still out there. In the history of wizarding Britain's last two wars, both fought against Voldemort and his followers, only one of the Dark Lord's followers had truly left his service, devoting his life, if not to 'light', then to at least fight against the darkness. <em>I still can't believe that bastard... all the things he sacrificed, and I never knew. No wonder he was so bitter and hateful to us all, but especially me.<em>  
>Now, Harry knew he'd done it. He'd started thinking again. The bane of his current existence, thought.<p>

Giving a third frustrated sigh, Harry moved toward the loo, getting started on his day once again. There were still families to talk to, even more than six months later. Many- almost everyone- had lost _someone_ in the war, and he felt he owed it to them to help however he could. While he was due to start Auror training with the new year, Harry still had all of December and most of November to himself, having long since finished his preparations. After all, what more was there to do in the wee hours of the night and morning, when the world still slept, able to forget their losses and pain?

As we've already discussed, though, Harry Potter was not 'normal'.

Stepping out of the shower, wincing at the black scar on his left pectoral, the slowly-fading (and it _was_ fading, several doctors and himself had confirmed) remnant of the second time he'd survived the Killing Curse. _Even though the one on my head's empty and healing itself, now, you had to mark me one more time, didn't you, Moldyshorts?_

His normal sarcastic, dry humor was not usually present in the early morning, but Harry found not attempting _some_ form of it, no matter how pathetic, tantamount to failure in his mission- maintaining his sanity. He had to laugh at _something_. There was loss and pain everywhere, after all... especially in his heart.

_Gin... Ron... 'Mione... Fred..._

At least two of the people on that list had survived. Fred had died just meters away, struck by rubble that left a fist-sized hole in the back of his head when one of the walls of Hogwarts exploded.

Ginny Weasley, youngest of the clan and the first Weasley daughter in generations, had been killed by Bellatrix. She had almost gotten away, Harry knew. The Killing Curse could just have easily passed below her chin as the red-head spun to dodge, but her reflexes- and his own- had been just a millisecond too slow, and the green of the most hated spell had snuffed the love of his life out like a candle, just as it had taken almost everyone else he'd loved. _Remus, Tonks... and their poor son, Teddy, now without both parents... just like me. I should go see him, today._

Harry, of course, had lost it. He had practically flown across the hall, still covered by his invisibility cloak, to destroy the foul, mad woman who'd ruined his friend, Neville's, family, had killed Sirius Black, had killed... _no, not killed... she can't be dead..._ But Harry knew she was.  
>After all, that battle was more than six months ago. He had attended her funeral, locked in misery so deep that he felt he would never recover. He had been unable to face Fred's funeral the next day. Could not face the pain in the faces of the only family he'd ever known. The steam had left the ginger all at once, the angry tears turned to sorrow so deep that Harry wasn't sure if even he could understand it. Ron had <em>lost<em> his family. Harry had never known his. But then... _Sirius... Gin... maybe I do understand, after all._

Hermione had been a savior, as she had so many times before. She had chosen Ron, Harry knew, and he was happy for it. While some might wonder just how well suited for each other the two were, the Boy-Who-Lived-Again understood his best friends quite well, thank you, and knew that each of them both complemented each other's strengths, and covered their weaknesses- and were madly in love. That was enough for him.  
>So when she chose to devote her time to helping the Weasley clan heal, he was perfectly fine with it, and didn't begrudge her a moment. However, when she was able to visit (usually alone, since most of the family couldn't bear to be around him most times), she was able to maintain his connection to his family, as well as be the friend that he needed... most of the time.<p>

But Harry still hurt, still suffered. He just preferred to do so in silence. After all, he had been raised in pain, raised in torment, and he could deal with it. Why should anyone else have to suffer, when he could do it for them?

_At least until I go mad. Once I break, I'll just go find a quiet spot in the woods somewhere and end it. No fuss, no muss, just a quick letter to let everyone know so they can grieve instead of worry, and I won't have to hurt anyone else again. Until then, I'll help all I can. I owe it to everyone for all they sacrificed for me._

Harry blinked, brushing a hand over the black spider-web scar, wincing again, then turned away from the mirror to begin dressing.

It was a little early for Diagon Alley's businesses to be open, but Harry didn't mind. Honestly, he preferred the quiet to the hustle and bustle of the busy days. Gringotts, though, was open as early as always. That was convenient, since he was headed there in the first place.

"Mr. Potter," the goblins flanking the door bowed in unison. Harry nodded as well, not breaking his stride.

For two months after the battle, Harry had been in a difficult legal battle with the Goblin Nation. They were furious with him for costing them a dragon, not to mention the damage to the bank themselves. In the end, only donating the entire Black fortune to the goblins had basically bought them off. All he'd kept from that line were a few personal treasures of Sirius', and the house itself, which he couldn't give to the goblins anyway with the Fidelius on it.

Now, though, having recieved a 'gift' of several million Galleons and numerous treasures- many goblin-wrought and 'missing' from their kind's care for centuries- the goblins were, in general, quite happy with him. After all, they had not been treated well by the Dark Lord this time, either, and did not forget that it had been Harry who had finished Voldemort in the end.

Stepping up to the queue- only two deep- Harry was ushered to a goblin almost immediately.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?" the goblin asked, his voice raspy and deep.  
>Harry had to work not to smile. This was the goblin he'd been forced to Imperius when they'd broken into Gringotts last year. However, he now knew that a wizard baring teeth to a goblin was considered a threat, so restrained himself. "I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name. I'd like to speak with your bank manager, if possible."<p>

The goblin chose not to answer the first implied query, focusing on the business, "Ragnok is with a client, currently. If you would be willing to wait, I am certain he will be done shortly. The Malfoy family has little to offer us these days."

This time, Harry couldn't hold back his smile, though his lips were tightly closed. He wasn't sure exactly how Lucius had escaped prison, but he had not forgotten either Narcissa's part in bringing down Voldemort, nor Draco's reluctance- fear- of becoming truly evil. Still... _daddy still able to fix all your problems with a few words, Draco? The real world sucks, doesn't it?_

A few minutes later, he was led by another familiar goblin- Griphook- deep into the labyrinthine bowels of the financial institution. After several confusing twists and turns- Harry was sure they'd passed one portrait at least three times- the goblin croaked, "Wait here," then knocked twice on a thick, steel-reinforced oak door.

A moment later, Griphook pushed it open and gestured Harry inside with an inscrutable expression.

Several hours later, Harry's head was aching. _Who knew setting up a will was so much work? No wonder mum and dad's were so out of date._

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Potter?" Ragnok asked, the aged goblin's beady black eyes staring straight into Harry's, much as they had been the entire time.

The young wizard began to shake his head, but stopped before completing one turn. "Actually... I have all this information, but I don't know who's been managing my account. Is there a specific goblin that takes care of the investments?"

The old goblin blinked twice, then leaned back in his seat in a relaxed posture, the first sign of 'humanity' Harry had seen from him since their meeting had begun. "I'm surprised you ask that, Mr. Potter. Rarely does wizardkind ask about the details of our work. Usually they only complain if they feel their worth's increase is insufficient, and say nothing when it grows by leaps and bounds through our labor."

Harry flushed slightly. He knew he was only one person, but there was still so much hatred, injustice, and outright bigotry... "I'm not a common wizard, I guess, Ragnok. If it's a secret, you needn't tell me, of course. My track record aside, I really do respect your way of life. I don't want to threaten it, so..."

The goblin shook his head firmly, "No, Mr. Potter, it is not a problem at all. I was simply surprised. At this time, your account manager is not listed. As you are aware, you have had no active investments since your parents death. This decision was set out in their will. They have only collected interest, it is that which has fuelled your trust fund for your education. I take it by your question that you wish to rectify this?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, but I don't know much about finances aside from the basics. Is there a goblin I could pay a fee- say, annually or monthly- to manage it all for me? Someone trustworthy, of course."  
>"Of course," Ragnok replied, "goblins make the most money themselves when left to their own devices. If we cheat our clients, they find out, and our profits diminish in a ripple. Goblins are taught this practically from birth, it is part of our way of life. We do not deal dishonorably... though it is my understanding that wizardkind does not always agree."<p>

Harry smiled, remembering the lecture he'd gotten from Bill shortly before breaking into Gringotts about the goblin's views of 'ownership'. "Then there is someone? Anyone you can recommend?"

"I can check around, Mr. Potter, but to be honest... I'm not sure how helpful I can be. With the recent legislation your Ministry has placed upon wizardkind, and our own laws, it has been more difficult for us to solicit on our client's behalf. Is there a goblin you know, that you trust? That would be the easiest way. You need only give me a name, and by the end of today, he will be in your employ for a modest fee."

Harry's face scrunched as he thought. He really didn't know that many goblins by name, but... "Well, what about Griphook?"  
>Again, the old goblin leaned back in his chair, letting out a surprisingly long breath for such a small creature, "Griphook? If I may ask, why him? He is not of any particular standing, though he is justifiably well-known for returning the 'sword of Gryffindor' to us."<p>

Harry ignored the indirect allusion to the circumstances behind that event again, "Well, he's the only one I know fairly well, for one thing. For another... well, despite our disagreements, I like to think that we understand each other. I don't bear him ill will, and I think I've proved that to him by my own actions, so... is there a reason you don't think he'd work?"  
>"No," Ragnok replied, "nothing like that. Again, I find myself surprised. I don't expect wizardkind to know our customs aside from basic facts, but asking a cart driver to manage accounts is a significant step up in our social heirarchy for him. However... I must admit that he is intelligent. If you find him trustworthy, I see no reason why he cannot perform adequately for you."<p>

Harry smiled, but fortunately, Ragnok did not seem to take offense, since he smiled back. Harry shuddered at the glimpse of some bloody residue on the old goblin's pointed teeth. "I think that's everything then, Ragnok. Thank you for meeting me today without an appointment."

The goblin rose, shaking Harry's hand as he did so, then hopped off his chair and came around the desk to stand next to the wizard. His head came up to just over Harry's belt. As they walked toward the door, Ragnok replied, "Think nothing of it, Mr. Potter. Your accounts are filled with gold that has sat idle for many years. Now it flows, and our own wealth will increase because of it. In particular, you have made one average goblin very happy today, though he does not yet know it."  
>Harry laughed.<p>

As he left Gringotts, Harry began to plan the rest of his day. It was early in the season, perhaps, but maybe a little Christmas shopping was in order. What else was he to do? Besides, the weather had been foul for days, and this was likely to be the last clear one of the season before the holidays began in earnest.

(O)(O)(O)

Laden with packages, Harry stumbled into Grimmauld Place just after eight. Cursing, he dropped two bags, one of which rolled down the stairs to the kitchen. The portrait of Walburga Black, Sirius' mother, immediately attempted to scream, but Kreacher beat her to it. "Sorry, Master, but my old Mistress... Kreacher can't seem to get that portrait down."

This was a long-standing issue for Harry and Kreacher, but at least the ancient elf seemed sincere in his desire to follow his owner's instructions. However, the permanent-sticking charm- or whatever was holding the portrait there- was truly powerful, as not even one of Harry's rage- and sorrow-fuelled _reducto_ spells had affected the painting. Only stunners and his direct orders seemed to work, though even those and Kreacher's magic were temporary at best.

"Would Master Harry like dinner now?"

"No, Kreacher, thank you," the wizard responded, "I actually saw a new fast food place from the States a couple blocks away, I want to try that out. I've heard it's good."  
>The elf nodded with a bow, "Shall I take these bags, Master?" he asked, already levitating the one from downstairs back up.<br>"Sure, if you aren't busy," Harry replied, "just stick them up in the attic for now. They're presents."  
>The elf nodded, and made a single gesture, causing the bags that had almost caused Harry to careen down the stairs head-first to follow him in single-file up the stairs.<p>

Shaking his head at his own ineptitude- _Are you a wizard, or not?_- rang through his head as he stepped back outside, pulling his cloak- fashioned to at least superficially resemble a trench coat, so it was acceptable for muggle London- tight around his neck.

Snow had begun falling shortly before he reached home, and in the few minutes he'd been inside had begun to pile up.  
>He shivered, then set off at a brisk walk.<p>

In the tiny parking lot- room for six small autos at most- Harry passed a slight beggar woman, whose crude sign advertised "will do anything for food" in a surprisingly elegant script. Without a thought, he dropped the entire contents of his muggle wallet, minus ten pounds he saved for dinner, into the woman's tin without breaking stride.  
>The weak call of thanks caused him to turn with a forced smile on his face, "Happy Christmas!" before turning back, still without stopping his progress toward the warm interior.<p>

However delicious the roast beef sandwich that this "Arby's" place sold, Harry found himself having a hard time enjoying it.

_I wonder if she has a place to stay? It's awfully cold. She should be able to get a motel for the night- or the year- with the money I gave her, though. I wonder if she noticed? I don't think she looked..._

He tried to put the street beggar out of his mind and enjoy the sandwich, but something about her kept pulling at his attention.

A half-hour later, two sandwiches down and three more in a take-out bag (one for Kreacher and two for the beggar) and an insulated cup of coffee (he'd been forced to serrupticiously transfigure a post-ad for a martial arts studio nearby into a five-pound note for the last), he made his way back out into the now-blinding snow.

When he reached the sign, though, Harry's last thought was on feeding the poor woman.

Her skin was blue.

Fortunately, Harry was known for his quick thinking. He debated several options, and in seconds came up with a simple conclusion. _St. Mungo's_. _Obliviation be damned, she needs help _now_._

(O)(O)(O)

Two hours later, an assistant healer came out to find Harry in the empty waiting room of the wizarding hospital. "Mr... Harry Potter?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry nodded, "Yes. Is she going to...?"

The healer smiled, "She's going to be fine, Mr. Potter. She's asking to meet her savior. Would you like to?"

Harry nodded, following the young witch through the doors she'd just come from.  
>He turned right, she turned left. "Er... aren't we going up to...?" Harry asked, but the witch, who had turned when he began to speak, shook her head sadly. "No, she's down this way. We had to put her in a secure room."<p>

Surprised, Harry's eyebrows rose. The healer frowned, "It's not something I like... and believe me, I applaud your kindness helping someone like her, but... she's just not safe around the other patients, or maybe it'd be better to say they aren't safe around her. Healer Madsen insisted we treat her with the others like her."

Dumbstruck, Harry shrugged and followed, trying not to watch the witch's shapely backside. _Ginny... what would Ginny think? ... damn. No, _don't_ think of Gin... but don't think about this woman you don't even know, either!_

After a few minutes, after the witch had lead him down four staircases into what must have been the deepest part of the hospital, she stopped outside a heavy, locked door. "She's in here, Mr. Potter. I don't believe she's a danger, but again, Healer Madsen warned us to tell everyone who visits her to be careful, just in case."

He nodded, making sure his wand was loose in it's holster, before knocking and stepping into the brightly-lit room.

The woman on the bed was blonde, with long, curly hair. It was a lot cleaner than it had appeared in the Arby's parking lot; it was a safe bet the woman had been thoroughly cleaned and sanitized. She might have been pretty, he thought, were it not for the scars. One across her left eye, a matching one from the left ear to mid-way down that cheek, and a line of puncture wounds across both sides of her throat, as if some great beast had tried to rip it out, and she'd only just gotten away.

Blue eyes blinked open and focused on him. The skin- rosy, now, instead of blue thanks to the healer's efforts- paled.

"H- Harry?"  
>The wizard could only stare in shock. He'd barely remembered this girl from school, though he'd seen her less than a year ago. Back then, she had been savaged, bloody, but he knew she would survive- Hermione had made sure of that.<p>

"L... Lavender?"

All of his shock at meeting the once-beautiful Lavender Brown again faded into one terrible question. _Why is a witch begging for scraps in muggle London in the dead of winter?_

**A/N:** I suppose this is really two, but meh. I hope you liked it, but remember- this is just set-up. It's almost all important (at least a little) later, and most or all of the puzzles will be explained... eventually.

If you enjoyed this teaser-ish chapter, please review. Not holding anything hostage (I've already committed as much as I can to one or two weeks between chapters), but if I break, say, 100 reviews I'll post another chapter immediately (and continue the trend, of course).

'till next time!


	2. Chap 2  Home at last?

**A/N: **Hi again, all. First, I'd like to apologize and thank one of my reviewers for reminding me- yes, I _did_ forget a disclaimer. I meant to have it in the list, but forgot it. So... This statement applies to the entire fic, both before and after, so don't expect another one in it: I don't own Harry Potter, the Characters, Events, Locations, or other indicia of the HP 'verse. Those are owned by Joanne Kathleen Rowling, with a few exceptions for Warner Brothers, etc.  
>... though I wouldn't mind a harem of some of the girls. You know which ones.<p>

Anyway, thanks very much for all the reviews (didn't hit 100, but I didn't really expect it to), please keep 'em coming.  
>Remember, this story's finished- I'm just not uploading it all at once, so don't worry about it being continued. I just need to remember to take a few minutes and do it. And since I'm typing this at 1:50 AM, after getting out of bed in the middle of the night 'cause I forgot to post it earlier, well... I likely won't forget on a given week. Sunday is also the planned update day, usually early in the AM.<br>Enjoy chapter two!

**Chap. 2 Home at last?**

"Are you sure you'll be able to care for her, Mr. Potter? I mean..." the pretty healer blushed, obviously embarrassed to be questioning- in public, no less- the hero of two wars. "It's just... well, she's not really one of _them_, but her blood... we tested it. She's tainted by... by the... the... the..."

Harry's eyes, just after finishing rolling because of her behavior, rolled painfully again. "The lycanthropy?"

A deeper shade of red, the witch nodded.

"My father and godfather's best friend was a full werewolf, and Bill Weasley, a close family friend, is basically affected the same as Lavender. I'm no potions master, but I'm able to buy Wolfsbane and dilute it if needed. I can also follow instructions, so, _yes_, I think I can handle taking care of her. She's a friend of mine, and apparently has no one else. I'm taking her home if she's ready to be released."

Lavender, sitting in a wheel chair of what, to Harry, was of ancient design several feet away, only just caught the last two sentences of the conversation as the young wizard's voice started to raise. She blushed and looked away. _Calling us 'friends' is a bit of a stretch, isn't it, Harry? I can probably count the sentences we've exchanged on one hand._

"Very well then, Mr. Potter," the witch answered with a worried glance in the younger witch's direction, "This potion here is for her exposure. This reddish one is for-"  
>Harry continued to listen, committing the instructions to memory while he watched the area round Lavender. Even late at night- or perhaps early morning would be more accurate- there were several patients waiting to be admitted. However, it was obvious that none of them were willing to get near the afflicted young woman. The scars on her face and neck were extremely recognizable, and the wizarding populace had learned all-too-well recently to fear werewolves again.<br>"And remember, floo us if you have any questions. If... now, don't get mad at me for this, I'm just doing my job,"  
>Now the healer had his undivided attention. In Harry's experience, whenever anyone told him <em>not<em> to get mad, he had ample, and usually justified, reason to do so.

Reading his darkening expression she finished in a rush, "If you have problems, er, _containing_ her, stun her quick and hard, twice, and then bring her here. We have the, er, fac-"

Harry grabbed the sack of potions from her and stalked over to Lavender, fuming, before the healer could finish.

"Harry, you don't have to get mad on my behalf. I'm... I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be used to it. There's nothing wrong with you!"

The young witch'es eyes watered at once, but she said nothing. Distantly, Harry was aware of the entire waiting room watching his exchange with Lavender. _Sod 'em all. Let them watch! Maybe they'll even listen and learn something! _I'm_ not afraid to be around her! She's not even a full werewolf!_  
>After a few moment's silence while he fumed and Lavender tried not to break into tears, Harry changed the subject. "Come on, let's get you out of here. You still hungry?"<p>

Ten minutes' later, they settled into a small booth at the dim back of a muggle diner. Harry had been unwilling to subject Lavender, who still looked rather unhealthy, despite the full moon being a week or more away, to the stress of apparition, and was not willing to risk a port key, since he had never tried making one before. He thought it might have been a part of the same chain that he, Ron, and Hermione had had an impromptu battle with death eaters in a year or more ago.  
>"Here's the menu," he handed the girl, who's eyes were still wet, "order anything you want."<p>

She spent a few minutes looking over the unfamiliar foods, and even longer reading the descriptions of a few that looked at least a little appetizing. Harry, meanwhile, had already settled on the original comfort food for a teenage boy (that did not have pizza handy)- a cheeseburger, with everything.

However, when the waitress returned with two coffees, Lavender only ordered a pastry without sugar. Harry closed his eyes for a moment before ordering, taking the time to set his resolve to take the action he knew was right, rather than what was easy.

"I'll have a quarter-pound cheeseburger with everything. Make that two. A... a steak, very rare, the twelve ounce one. And... a plate of cheese fries. And a couple big shakes, one strawberry and one chocolate. Bring those later, though, if you would. You're open all night, right?"

The waitress nodded, distracted by her frantic scribbling. "Right then, sir. I'll bring... uh, the fries, the pastry and some water out right away, the burgers next, and then the steak and shakes, shall I?"

Harry smiled, ignoring Lavender's dumbfounded expression.

Once the waitress had left them, Harry glanced around to make sure no one else was within hearing range, verified it with _homunum revelio_, while Moody's voice echoed 'Constant Vigilance!' in his head. "You need more than a croissant. If you don't eat it all, I'll have a little extra. I can still hear Mrs. Weasley crying over how peaky I look, I can afford to gain a few pounds. If I don't finish it, then... it'll go to waste. It's only a few pounds."

"Harry..."  
>But Lavender appeared to not know what to say. She refused to meet his eyes, and unfortunately, Harry understood all too well why. He had grown up being mocked, ridiculed, an outcast. While Lavender may once have been quite popular, she was now as he had been, while Harry was popular (in a shallow way) instead of the nobody he had been before his Hogwarts letters had begun to arrive. "Listen, Lavender, I know... or at least, I can guess, what you've been going through. I can-"<br>"No you don't, Harry," the witch replied, meeting his eyes for the first time since the hospital, her gaze steely, "You don't have _any_ idea what it's like to be shunned like... like a beast. Even my own _family_ wants nothing to do with me. Parvati... Parvati's afraid I'm a full werewolf, she won't even return my owls when I send her a letter."

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Harry did, again, what was right instead of easy. "Let's take a walk down through my history, shall we? Starting with fifth year, I was slandered in the worst possible way, in the frigging _Prophet_, by the Ministry, and by my 'friends', even those in Gryffindor who knew me best, aside from Ron and Hermione. In fourth, three-quarters of the school- or more- thought I cheated my way into the tournament just for a little extra fame. Like I need _that_. In third year, things were actually pretty good, except I thought I had a mass-murderer after me. Turns out the real murderer had been sleeping in my dorm for years, just biding his time, and the innocent one was my godfather, Sirius Black. But who cares about that? No public ridicule, slander, or lies that year. In second, everyone- _everyone_- in Gryffindor except Ron and Hermione thought I was the effing _Heir of Slytherin_. Even you. Seamus. Dean. Maybe Neville knew I wasn't, but we hardly talked back then, so who knows?

First year, again, I didn't have any 'negative' publicity except from Snape, but there I was, a boy with no idea why he was famous, or how famous he was. I was a _nobody_ in Privet Drive at _best_, a criminal hooligan at worst. I was treated literally like a house elf for the first ten years of my life, Lavender. Except without the job satisfaction. If I did a good job, I got food to eat with minimal time locked in my cupboard underneath the stairs. That was my bedroom for ten years, which was more than I deserved accordingto _my_ family. So yes, I know exactly what it's like. Maybe I don't know what it's like to be feared for being a werewolf. That's one thing people have never thought of me. But I've been loathed, feared, and shunned for more than half of my life. So I know what you're feeling, believe me."

She said nothing, though he could read the pain in her eyes easily enough. He'd felt it himself, for years at a time sometimes. The shame at one's own existence, at how weak one was to let the words and actions of others affect you, the soul-crushing loneliness she must have been feeling, as if no one she'd ever cared for cared back, not one whit.

"Harry, I just..." But Lavender seemed to have no response to Harry's declaration.

The black-haired wizard shook his head, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes, much like she hadn't wanted to see his. "It doesn't matter. Look... I'm no good with feelings and stuff. Even worse than most blokes, I reckon."

Lavender snorted, "That'd be tough to do."

Trying not to smile, sure she was remembering her time with Ron much as Harry himself was, Harry kept on, "But I _do_ kind of get your... situation. You feel like you're all alone in the world, no one to turn to, no one that understands. But _I_ do, and I'm here and willing and able to help. You just have to let me."

After several tense, silent minutes, Lavender's brown eyes slid up from the cheap paper place setting to watch Harry for another few minutes.  
>"I... I don't know if I can."<p>

Harry shrugged, forcing nonchalance into his voice, "Then, if you can't, there's nothing I can do. I can't force you to accept my help. I know we've had our differences, but have I ever given you cause not to trust me?"

During the next round of uncomfortable silence, Harry too the time to ponder exactly why he'd chosen this path, and how far down it he would be willing to go. On the surface, it was all down to his inability to watch his friends, or anyone, really, suffer.

But there was more to it. For his part, at least, there wasn't any real _friendship_ there. He doubted there was any on her side, either. They'd been partnered for a few projects during their school years, but otherwise the most contact they had had was when Lavender was trying to learn more about Ron when they'd been together.

'Acquaintances' certainly covered it, but weren't they more than that? They had been next to each other in the dorms above the Gryffindor common room for six years, the entire time Harry had attended. They had been in the DA together, she had fought to protect herself, her friends, Hogwarts, _him_, during the last battle. Maybe 'comrades in arms' was a better term?

The waitress, a tall, pretty black girl with a poofy hair style that reminded Harry of one of his father's black friends from the photo album returned. Carrying their first orders in one hand, a pot of coffee in the other, she said, "Here you two lovebirds go. The burger and steak should be out in just a few. Refill?"

Displaying enough dexterity to make Harry green with envy, she filled his cup to the brim at the same time as putting down the large and small plates with the other hand.  
>"He's not my boyfriend," Lavender beat him to it, "He's famous, a real hero. I'm nobody."<p>

The wizard was distracted by how much he hated both the words and the tone they'd been delivered with by the waitress turning to face him. She stared for several seconds, he thought it was more than a minute, while his face turned deeper and deeper red.

"Sorry," she eventually said, "I don't know you. Are you an actor, or something?"

Harry, who had decided to take a sip of his freshened coffee to have something to do besides stare back, sprayed the hot liquid all over the fries in an attempt to restrain his laughter at the dumbfounded expression Lavender wore, or the suddenly annoyed looks the waitress was giving him.

"Er, I'll just get a towel to wipe that up, and have the cook make you another-"

Still forcibly holding back chuckles, Harry commented, "Don't bother," drew his wand and vanished the entire mess, along with the plate. Next he looked to the wide-eyed girl and whispered, "Obliviate," before stowing the holly wand away again.

After she'd wandered off, confused, Lavender found the words to speak again. "How- how can she not know who you are? You're the most famous wizard in England! Probably the world!"

He shrugged, "I told you. To muggles, I'm no one, no one at all. Just another roguishly handsome stranger on the street."

Despite having heard it many times, that was the first time Lavender believed a word of it. After all, how could _Harry Potter_ be a nobody?  
>"You know, Harry," she said after picking at her pastry to contain her own blush, "roguish good looks or not, humble suits you much better than hubris."<p>

For the first time that night, in months, really, Harry found himself smiling for real.

(O)(O)(O)

"Now, don't scream."

Lavender, clutching the take-out box filled with half a bloody steak, asked, "Why would I scream?"

Harry winked, "Kreacher!"

The witch took one look at the wrinkled, ancient (though thankfully, scrupulously clean) elf, and let loose a blood-curdling screech that actually caused several of the nearby muggles in Grimmauld Places Eleven and Thirteen to look out their windows questioningly.

Grinning again, Harry ignored her shock and spoke to the elf, "Kreacher, will it cause any problems if I let Lavender inside?"

The diminutive creature cast an appraising eye over the blonde, "Kreacher doesn't think so, Master. The wards are strong, but Kreacher can see that Master Harry's friend is a witch, so with his permission, she can enter."

Mostly recovered from her surprise, Lavender peered around, "You live in a muggle flat?"

"No, I live at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."

A delicate eyebrow, bisected by a red scar, raised in confusion. A moment later, though, there was a surprised "Oh!" as the Fidelius charm allowed the knowledge into her mind.

"Come on in. Don't mind the dark decor... this was the house Sirius grew up in, and his family... well, they weren't Death Eaters, but you couldn't call them 'nice' wizards, either. Pureblood extremists, all of them except Sirius, and I guess his brother wasn't too bad. Only decent people they ever produced were my godson's mum and grandmother, and Sirius himself. It looks a lot better than it did, but it's still not really bright and cheery."

"Will Master Harry or his friend be needing anything else before Kreacher retires?"

His hand on the doorknob, Harry paused. "You... you haven't been to bed, yet? What time is it?"  
>The elf gave a weird, shrugging bow, "Kreacher only requires a few hours' sleep a night, Master. More makes Kreacher feel like he isn't doing his duty to his Master's house. A house elf must always be ready to serve his Master. It is our way. It is also..." Kreacher's eyes closed for a moment, then reopened, looking slightly less focused, "Two-sixteen in the morning, Master."<p>

Sighing, Harry nodded, "Well... sleep as much as you need to, okay? That's an order. In fact, take... take a day every what, six months, to sleep in? That isn't too much, right?"

The wrinkled elf's eyes widened. "Is... Is Master unhappy with Kreacher's service?"

"Oh, no Kreacher... I'm very happy with you. I just... okay, let me change that order. If you need something to take care of yourself, take care of it, okay? Sleep as much as you need to, eat what you need to, and so on. If you want to take time off to do something for yourself, like a hobby, then do it, okay? I just want you to be happy too. You've earned it, all right?"

Again, the elf looked at him like he'd grown another head. "Kreacher likes taking care of Master's house very much. He will keep doing a good job, and that will be his hobby, if it suits Master."

Lavender's small hand came up to cover her mouth, stifling giggles, while Harry's eyes rolled. "All right, Kreacher, whatever you choose. As long as you're happy, I'm happy with you. Go on and head to bed, I'll get Lavender settled. No, really, I'll do it," he interrupted the elf before he could start, "Believe me, Kreacher, I can handle this. Just go on to bed, please."

When Lavender got her first glimpse of the interior of Harry's home, she gasped with a combination of surprise and fear. Despite appearing very clean, the dark, dingy and faded wallpaper- she thought it may once have borne a floral pattern- did nothing to detract from the row of shrivelled elf heads hanging on the wall. "H-Harry? Are... what are _those_?"  
>Following Lavender's pointing finger, Harry's eyes widened before a strange, almost regretful smile stole over his face. "They're Kreacher's family. A few generations back, one of Sirius' great-aunts started this mad tradition of cutting off their House Elves' heads and mounting them on the wall when they got to old to serve tea."<br>The blonde shook her head, "But... but that's mental!"

He nodded, "You should have heard Ron go on about them. Called Kreacher a nutter all the time for wanting his own head up there with them. But when he dies... I'm not doing it. He's not a Black family elf any more, he's a Potter."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she followed him down the stairs into the basement kitchen, "How does Hermione feel about that?"

He shrugged, "We don't... talk much any more. We still stay in touch, but she spends most of her time at the Weasley's, and... well, after Ginny and Fred, I... I don't feel right going there any more. She doesn't seem to mind too much, though, she knows it'd kill him if we set him free, and he is a _lot_ happier now than he was when we first met him."

"He..."

Harry shrugged, holding open the door to the gleaming downstairs eating area, "Doesn't matter. He's fine now... I used to hate him myself, he was directly responsible for Sirius' death. But... I understand him now. I've let it go."

She watched him in silence, sitting on the end of the table nearest to the roaring fireplace, watching him move around the kitchen as if he'd been born there. There was something... different. He was still Harry, the boy she'd grown up at least knowing, but... there was Ron and Hermione's absence. He was rarely without them in school.

But that wasn't it.

He was taller, more rugged. He hadn't shaved in a few days, judging by the dark shadow on his chin and throat. He was only a few inches taller than when she'd last had a chance to really examine him more than a year ago. The wounds from the battle, in the brief glimpses she'd had then, were long healed. There were a few more scars, though, some of them visibly peeking from his coat sleeves- he hadn't yet taken that off- and one long one moving up his throat on the right side. _I'm not the only one with permanent scars, I guess._

He moved with the same easy grace he always had when fighting, with utter un-selfconsciousness, moving both arms- and the occasional foot- to open doors, pick things up, put them down, and shut them again without hardly a glance in any direction aside from the most complicated of the individual tasks before him.

After just a few minutes, her chance to watch him without drawing attention to herself was gone when he set down a steaming cup of tea before her, followed by a saucer with two pieces of buttered toast, before moving back to the pantry and returning moments later with a plate of butter cream and sugar both in one hand, and a small pot labelled Hanson's Homestyle Honey in the other.

"Sorry," he said as he sat across from her, "I didn't think to ask what kind. You okay with Earl Gray? I can make you something else, the water's still boiling."

Lavender shook her head, "No, this is fine. My mum drank this kind... well, she probably still does, but I haven't seen her in a few months."  
>The pair fell into an uncomfortable silence as they slowly sipped the piping tea.<p>

Harry had gotten up and refilled his own before Lavender had finished hers and one of the pieces of toast. "I'm... sorry, Harry," she said with a yawn and a regretful look at the other piece of toast, "I don't want to waste your food, but..."

"'s fine," he muttered, his own demeanor perking up as hers seemed to fall, "Kreacher'll take it out back to feed the birds in the garden when he gets up, no problem at all. You look pretty knackered, you ready for bed?"

She blushed at the suggestion, then quickly forced calm as she realized once again that this was _Harry Potter_. Why would he want to take her to bed? Even if he did, he was far too much of a gentleman- whatever his other faults as far as girls went- to do such a thing to her in her state anyway.

More tired than depressed, she stumbled twice making her way up the narrow staircase after the young man, and almost fell once again when he stopped suddenly before one of the doors on the third landing, "You can stay in here. It's Gin and- well, it's Hermione's room, and I don't think she'd mind being your 'roommate' for a bit longer."

The witch made a half-hearted (the best she could manage) attempt to dissuade him that she'd be okay on a couch rather than taking up a bed reserved for Hermione, or even worse, his old- dead- girlfriend.

Lavender's expression followed him back down into sadness at her tactless reminder of yet another of Harry's lost loved ones. "I'm sorry... I'll stop arguing. Just... are there linens and things?"

Harry nodded, forcing a small smile, "Yeah, and I'm pretty sure 'Mione's pyjamas will fit you well enough for a night or two as well. She keeps them in the right, I think, top drawer maybe. Do you want me to... well, what time do you wake up?"

She shrugged half-heartedly, "Depends. I don't have a job, or school, so I'd like to have a bit of a..." she trailed off, not sure whether he'd want her to impose that long.

He took one look and gave another genuine smile, "A lie-in? That's fine, Kreacher gets up fairly early- I think around six- and I usually go for a run around seven, but then I'll be going back to bed myself. Of course... I also don't usually stay up this late, so I might sleep in myself. I'll have Kreacher wait for breakfast then, until at least one of us is up. Just... "

He trailed off, watching refusal grow in her eyes, but then cut in before she could speak, "No, just... listen, Lavender. I know this is hard for you, but you _need_ some help, and I have no problems providing it. I _want_ to, okay? This isn't a big stress for me. Honestly, I'm ready to go into the Academy, I have a month and a half to kill. If you want to stay here the whole time, that's okay with me. And... I could probably use the company."

The fight left her again with a sigh. "Good night, Harry," she said, and backed through the open doorway, closing it behind her. A moment later, she heard him trudge slowly back down a flight of stairs and open, then shut another door below her.

_I guess it wouldn't hurt to stay here for a night... or maybe two, if my nightmares don't wake him up._

It took a few minutes to find a comfortable looking pair of Hermione's pyjamas and climb into the bed closest to the door. It squeaked, but not a lot. At the same time, it was terribly comfortable. She sighed; she couldn't recall being in a bed this comfortable since Hogwarts. _It's kind of strange. Nice, but strange. I haven't slept in an actual house in four months, since... I wonder if I'm going to be able to... fall..._ And then she began to lightly snore.

(O)(O)(O)

In the room below, though, Harry Potter was having a much more difficult time. He was in pyjama bottoms and one of Dudley's old shirts, the only one he'd kept after leaving Hogwarts. It was comfortable enough, and Grimmauld Place got a bit chilly in winter. As he lay in bed, trying not to stay awake, the young man's thoughts returned over and over again to the half-cursed witch sleeping above.  
>Despite his earlier musings on the subject, Harry still hadn't come to any proper conclusion or resolution about just why he was doling all of this. The easiest answer was that he felt he owed it to her; for her help- her sacrifice- during the battle. But that, if he were honest with himself, was only a small part of it. He knew he had the personality of a martyr, so that was obvious enough. But what was he sacrificing for her? Money? Food? A roof and room? He had too much of both, it was no loss to him.<br>For two hours or more, as the sky went it's darkest and then slowly started lightening, he had no new insight until, at last, he fell asleep.

Harry's pounding head was the first thing to greet him when he woke the next day. His blaring alarm clock was the second. He silenced it with a barely-aware wave of one hand. "Ugh..." he groaned as he sat up with a bleary glance toward the clock. _Seven... maybe I'll go back to sleep when I get back. But first... just... five more minutes..._ before he hit the pillow again.

**A/N2:** There you go, hope you enjoyed it. Chapter 3 is most likely to be posted (as I said earlier) early in the morning, around midnight, on the 17th, 4 on the 21st, etc.

Note I've also changed (read: fixed) the title, it was supposed to be Blue-Eyed Doe on the site, but the title wouldn't take the hyphen. The space there is better than two words run together.

Since I recieved a whopping 5 reviews for 1, you'll need to hit 105 total for me to post the next chapter early. Don't be shy, I won't bite. Not even a little. My kinks don't go that way. :)


	3. Chap 3  No Home Here!

**A/N: **Aaand... here's chapter three. See the note at the bottom about a possible (but unlikely) delay in posting for Chapter Four.

Just as a note to all, though, while there's some (kind of but really not) risque stuff in this chapter, it's rated T at worst. However, the M stuff _is_ coming, and since there are three scenes of definite M material scattered throughout, and the entire fic is only 10 chapters, you won't have to wait too much longer for it if you are.  
>Enjoy!<p>

**Chap. 3 No Home Here**

Lavender woke up with the strangest feeling of warmth. It surrounded her, enveloped her, was _inside_ her. The least warm part of her was her right ear. That seemed a strange thing to the witch's half-awake mind, until she realized there was a weight on top of her.  
>Covering her.<p>

Holding her down.

Pinning her.

Breathing with hot, foul-smelling breath into her ear as he whispered the terrible things he would do to her after he ravaged her 'pretty little face until even her own mother couldn't stand to look at her'.

But no...

The memories rushed headlong back, piling up, and brought with them greater awareness.

_It's not Greyback, it's a warm, cozy blanket. I'm tucked up, nice and safe and warm and safe, in a four-poster even more comfy than Hogwarts'. Harry _is_ close by, he said he would be. And... breakfast?_

The last thought was joined by a loud rumble from her stomach that would have made her blush, had there been anyone to hear it. Still laying on the bed, she stretched, enjoying the feel of the silken sheets, before rising to a sitting position, clutching the sheet around her in modesty. "Hmm... what was that elf called? Creature? Strange name."

(O)(O)(O)

When Harry next woke up, his clock read 2:32 PM. Rolling his eyes as he imagined his aunt and uncle's reactions to his "abbhorent laziness", nevermind that he had saved a life last night, he rolled out of bed surprisingly well-rested. He showered, dressed, and brushed his teeth with more energy than usual. Harry debated going upstairs to knock on Lavender's door, but reasoned that she would either be downstairs already or still asleep, so instead he padded quickly in still-bare feet to the kitchen.

There, he paused, taking in the scene before him.

On the far side of the large room, Kreacher was moving with speed he'd never seen from the aged elf, not even in the battle.

Between them, Lavender was frozen with a look of horror on her face while she stared at Harry, a fork holding what looked like peanut butter and syrup-covered pancakes halfway to her mouth. There were eight plates, bearing scraps of several different types of food, scattered around her.

Harry started to laugh, louder and harder than he could remember doing since sixth year, while Lavender's face went deeper red.

"Master Harry," Kreacher croaked from across the kitchen, "What would you like?"

Still laughing, the wizard choked out, "I would like you to _slow down_, Kreacher! I don't want you to have a heart attack!"

The old elf bowed, but Harry looked away due to the sound of a fork hitting a ceramic plate with a clatter. Before he really knew what was happening, the blonde girl had fled the room. Distantly, the wizard registered the sound of a sob through his confusion.

"Master, Kreacher thinks Master's young lady friend took offense. Would Master-"

"No, Kreacher... I'll take care of it, thanks. Only... any idea what I said?"

The elf's wrinkled brow furrowed as the watery grey eyes rolled, "Kreacher thinks Master saw his lady friend vulnerable, and laughed."

_Of course!_ Harry thought, _Because no one would laugh at this... this feast, all gobbled down by Little Miss 'watch my figure' Brown!_

He scowled and shook his head forcefully. That kind of thinking was beneath him. He wasn't an annoying little prat any more.

Was he?  
>"Anyway... just toast for me, please, Kreacher. Maybe some of whatever she's got you making now, if there's enough. I'll... I'll just go talk to her, shall I?"<br>Kreacher gave a deep bow, "Kreacher thinks Master is wise to do so."

"Right..." then he turned and started moving up to the second landing.

He'd gotten past the first landing, whose doors led to the drawing room and a coat closet, and was half way up to the second when the door above burst open. Lavender, a little over half-dressed in the rags she'd been wearing the night before, threw herself down the stairs and hurtled past Harry.  
>But he was not the youngest Seeker in a century for no reason.<br>His left hand darted out, caught on the collar of the thin, ragged leather coat the witch had on, and he hauled her back in, trying to keep her from running out into the winter again.

Unfortunately for them both, he had misjudged the momentum, and rather than halt the smaller witch, she yanked him down behind her, sending both tumbling down to the bottom of the stairs in a heap.

"Ow..."

It took Harry a moment to realize that he wasn't in as much pain as he'd expected. There were definitely bruises; he had flashes of memory involving being right side up, upside down, and then right side up again, striking his head, left shoulder, and both knees against either the railing or the stairs themselves on the way down.  
>However, something soft had cushioned his fall.<p>

Harry blinked.

_Soft?_

A quick glance confirmed it.  
>His cheek was nestled up underneath the curve of Lavender's almost-bare breasts (they were covered by a thin bra that might once have been a pretty eggshell blue), and he was sprawled across her stomach and legs, facing mostly downhill. He scrambled to his feet, doing his utmost to avoid injuring the witch further, stammering apologies the whole while, "Sorry, sorry, Lavender! I didn't mean- I- not- I didn't want you to fall! Sorry!"<p>

But she just lay there, wincing even with her eyes screwed shut in pain, taking short, shallow breaths. "Way to get a girl's attention, Potter. No wonder Parvati said she'd never date you again!"

The wizard flushed with annoyance, and retracted his hands from their offer to help her rise. "You're... you might want to cover up."

Lavender opened her eyes at that and looked toward the staircase, where her legs were still splayed out, one of them at an awkward- but not likely broken- angle to see that her cloak and shirt had been ripped wide open down to the waist, where the damage had been stopped by a belt that looked on the verge of falling apart as well.

She flushed deeply all the way down her pale chest and moved to cover herself, but not before giving Harry something else (if related) to think about.

_That scar on her neck goes all the way down, and on her shoulder, too. What the hell was Greyback trying to do, maul her to death? I thought he'd want to... well... have some fun. But from the looks of it, he just wanted to open her up as quick as he could._

While he'd been lost in thought, the witch had returned to a mostly upright position, though she still huddled in as deeply as she could into her rags as she crouched on the bottom step, and refused to meet his gaze.

After a few minute's awkward silence, Harry muttered, "Sorry. I didn't mean to... well, rip your clothes. Or... or stare."

Lavender snorted. It was a sound he had rarely heard from her, especially not filled with such derision and self-loathing. Her words drove the nail in further, though. "It's not like no one else stares. All they see now is my scars, and I can't blame them. I'm... I'm _ruined_, so why... why shouldn't they stare?"

Harry was at a loss for words. How did you comfort someone like that? Someone who thought they were worthless, beyond hope?  
>"If you'll step aside, I'll just go. Thanks for your hospitality. Sorry I overstayed my welcome."<p>

Lavender's voice was so quiet, he almost didn't hear her even though she was only three feet away. "You haven't."

She didn't seem to hear him, even though his own voice was, he thought, quite loud. Loud enough he could hear it over the sudden pounding in his ears at the thought of turning this young woman- his _friend_, no matter how much logic dictated otherwise- out into the harsh London winter with only (very) torn rags for protection.  
>"Kreacher!"<p>

The elf appeared with a loud crack that made Lavender flinch away from both he and Harry. "Master called Kreacher?"

Harry nodded sternly, "I've got new instructions. Miss Brown isn't to leave this house without me accompanying her, and not at all until tomorrow. I don't care if you have to put her to sleep, she's not leaving until then, okay?"

Kreacher's eyes narrowed slightly, "Master wants to keep her prisoner? Has she been a bad witch?"

Harry had to fight down the blush that Kreacher's unintended innuendo brought forth, "No, nothing like that. It's for her own safety. Also, can you... can you draw her a bath, and mend her clothes while she's taking it?"

"Kreacher will begin at once, Master. The water will be warm in about two minutes."  
>Harry nodded, "Thanks, Kreacher."<br>The elf bowed low again and disapparated with another loud pop, the second of which echoed down the stairways a half moment later.  
>The black-haired young man turned his attention back to the witch still huddled on the bottom stair. "Lavender, it's... it's almost Christmas. In London. I can't let you go out there in rags like this."<p>

She sniffed and turned away as he crouched before her, trying to show how relaxed he was, "You'll have to tie me up, then. I don't belong here, I'm a freak."

Harry snapped.

Not into rage, no... that most hated word had little effect when applied to himself, now. "You are _not_ a freak!"he roared suddenly.  
>Lavender cowered away as he stood upright again. Even Harry could feel the sudden power radiating off him in waves, but he didn't care.<p>

"You are a beautiful young woman, who had one bad thing happen to you! That does _not_ make you a freak!  
>"The freaks are the monsters who attack the innocent ones, who bully the weak! They're the abberations who should be separated from the rest, made outcasts! Not you!"<p>

Without another word, Lavender turned and bolted with surprising speed up the stairs and into the bedroom where she'd spent the night, slamming the door and throwing the lock shut behind her.

At once, Harry felt the tingle across his forehead that meant someone had tried to bypass the anti-apparition wards and failed. He nodded, still frowning, and stalked up the staircase as well. Once he reached the landing leading into the girl's room, he threw himself against the door facing theirs and folded his arms, glaring at the door, and didn't move for some time.

(O)(O)(O)

Harry's eyes were dark, almost angry when Lavender hesitantly opened the door two hours later. She could tell that he was still furious, but was controlling it quite well. Very well, compared to how he'd have been acting in their fifth year if he was that angry. Once she saw that he wasn't going to attack her or yell again, she opened the door further.

The rags had been cleaned and mended to look almost new, and she watched Harry's eyes rake up and down her once taking in the full effect. A pine-colored cloak covered a darker green long-sleeved and high-collared dress, which once upon a time had gone two inches up her neck, but had since been modified (by her and Parvati, during one memorable afternoon two summers ago) to simply be a high v-neck, long-sleeves and an equally long bottom that stretched nearly to the ground were the reasons she'd chosen it- the less of her flawed skin anyone could see, the better. Under that, Harry could make out the outline of another shirt and a bulge around her waist that showed clearly through the dress, indicating she was wearing pants of some sort underneath it. He couldn't see her shoes, but could make a guess based on the noise of her feet on the old floors- not suitable for winter in London, no matter the type.  
>He nodded once, "I'm sorry I yelled. Can we talk?"<p>

Lavender froze, her blue eyes searching his dark, shadowed green ones for several seconds before she gave a small nod.  
>Harry jerked away from the opposite door and moved down to the drawing room. She followed slowly, keeping her hand on her wand inside her cloak. She knew there was no way she'd beat Harry Potter in a duel, but she might just be able to strike from surprise and run if he turned violent.<p>

_Who am I kidding? This is Harry-effing-Potter. He'd flatten me if he wanted to... chance to escape, my arse. I'm screwed!_

He didn't sit on any of the furniture, but instead moved to stare out the window on the far side of the room, gesturing her towards one of the many couches before folding his arms over his chest again.  
>She sat obediently, too frightened to do much else, as primly as she could, while fighting to ignore the pain from her own bruises. <em>At least he didn't hurt too much landing on me... small favors and all.<em>  
>Harry was a long time speaking. "I can't let you leave, for your own safety. Do you understand?"<p>

Lavender shook her head after a moment, "N- no... I can take care of myself. I can handle this- my- I can handle this life! You don't need to coddle me, Potter!"

When he turned around, he had a smile on his face, but the sadness in it made Lavender's heart quail. "You're wrong, I think you need it very much."

She flinched again when he strode quickly over and crouched in front of her, but he didn't make any move to grab or hold her, instead he just looked up into her face. "Lav, look... I know we weren't the closest in school, but I'm _not_ going to let one of my housemates freeze to death out in the cold if I can help it. Hell, I _might_ let _Malfoy_ go out there, but I wouldn't _force_ him to."

Despite herself, Lavender's mood lightened, just a little. "It's my life, though. You can't keep me prisoner here."

Harry sighed, "No, I can't... and I don't want to. I don't want a prisoner at all. I just want a friend to stay safe and warm and fed through the winter."

"We aren't even _friends_, Harry! We barely even know each other! Besides, you know I'm not safe! You know what these scars mean! I _saw_ you, and you _saw_ me get... get attacked by- by-"

Her breath caught in her throat.  
>She flinched when Harry moved his arms upwards, but relaxed when they only circled around her softly, pulling her toward him as gently as he could.<br>"I know what he did, Lav... but he's gone. He's never going to hurt anyone, ever again. And you aren't dangerous. I know it, even if no one else does."

She continued to sob for over an hour, until at last, she fell asleep, still occasionally sniffling, in Harry's arms. Once he realized she was out, he layed her down as gently as possible on the couch, went to fetch a blanket from the linen closet across the hall, covered her, and padded down to the kitchen to find his elf.

"Kreacher, can you make a quick trip to Gringotts for me?"

The elf looked up from the stove, "Of course, Master. What do you need?"

The wizard was silent for a moment, "Um... just some gold, I guess. Bit early to give her the house, I think," he finished with an uncomfortable smile.

Kreacher nodded, "A little premature, Master. Perhaps next week."

Harry snorted at the elf's attempted humor, before he realized that Kreacher- for whatever reason- seemed to be quite serious.  
>"Er... anyway... just, I don't know, a few thousand Galleons, I guess. I need to take Lavender shopping tomorrow, and I'm out of cash."<p>

The elf nodded, "I'll go right after I finish dinner, shall I, Master? It will only be a few minutes."  
>Harry nodded, just as the fireplace across the kitchen flared with green flames.<br>When the first burst had died down, Harry could make out the bushy brown hair of one of his oldest and best friends.  
>"Harry?"<p>

**A/N2:** And... here's Chapter 3.

Just a note, there is a (small) possibility that Chapter Four won't be ready by next weekend, regardless of reviews. I forgot an important scene, and the best place to fit it is early in that chapter- since it deals with Hermione and the Weasleys- but I'm going to do my damnedest to write that out today (I have to alter it a little, so it's easiest just to rewrite with the same goal in mind), so it really isn't likely to be delayed.

Preview: Chapter 4 is titled "Breakdown".


	4. Chap 4 Breakdown

**A/N: **OK, so it's 3:15 AM, I got 2 hrs of sleep last night (about half my usual nowadays, I got by on 2-3 a night when I was a teenager...13-15 years ago... Nooooo, I'm oooooold! /dies)  
>Anyway... sorry, yeah, early in the mornin on no sleep. So here's the new chapter... I know, shocking...<br>A _**WARNING**_- there is a lemonish scene in this chapter. It's one person (Male, guess who) in a shower and some less-than-totally-pure thoughts. And actions. And I won't spoil it otherwise.

That being said, it's not terribly long, or terribly in-depth. Also, as far as the story goes, I _do_ feel it needs to be there. Having been a male of some moral fibre (or so I've been told, anyway), I personally have had to wrestle with similar things more than once. So... yeah, that's a growth thing. Deal with it, or don't. Either way, review! :D

Lastly, this is by far the most angsty chapter in this fic so far. There are several other 'bad things' that either come out or are talked about or that happen in the remainder, but this one's got it's title for a reason- that is _not_ Lavender... sorta.

**Chap. 4 Breakdown**

"Harry? Are you there?"

Trying to pick up his stomach from somewhere around his feet, Harry struggled to rise from the bench before she came through on her own. Sliding onto the flagstones on already-abused knees, he winced and forced out, "Hey, 'Mione. What's up?"

The witch blinked, "Do you mind if I come through? I need to talk to you about something."

"Er, now's not really a good-"

But the fireplace was already flaring again, forcing Harry to throw himself backwards with another pained groan as Hermione stepped out of the fireplace gracefully, brushing her shoulders as she did so.  
>"Harry? What are you doing on the floor?"<p>

Before he even drew in a breath to answer, she'd continued on in that breathless way of hers, "Nevermind, here," while pulling him up by his collar with a none-to-gentle heave, "I don't have very long. I need a place to stay for a few days, if I can. Ron's... well, Ronald saw fit to propose the other day, in _full view_ of my parents and his _whole_ _family_!"

"That's great, congrat-"

"So of _course_, I was obligated to answer right away! Obviously, I said yes, it would be silly not to, but then Molly and Tonks, and Fleur, and Angelina, and my Mother all launched themselves off on this whole wedding _thing_, and somehow just because Ron shrugged and said he didn't care when the wedding was, they all assumed that it was fine with me if we have it _next week_! So they're all going crazy, getting everything ready, and I was okay with it for a while mostly because I didn't have a chance to catch my breath much less figure out what was going on or to tell them to slow down and-"  
>"<em>Breathe<em>, Hermione!"

She took one large, deep breath, and continued on as if he hadn't spoken at all, "And I just needed some space, some time to calm down, but when I told Ron I needed to go home for a few days, he got all upset with me, told me he'd take care of it, but then he started yelling at Molly, and my mother started yelling at him, and... and I just need to stay here for a day or two to calm down."

Far from merely impressed- that seemed such a weak word to describe Harry's level of awe at her staying power- the wizard merely gaped for a few seconds before he repeated, "I'm sorry, Hermione, now's not really a good-"

But he was interrupted again by a different witch's voice as she came into the kitchen, holding up the green dress, "Harry, I think Kreacher needs to look over my dress again. You ripped it pretty bad earlier."

In horror, Harry watched Hermione's eyes widen in shock.  
>"It's not what it-"<p>

Kreacher chose that moment to speak up as well, "If Master is going to be having two lady friends over for the night, Kreacher will prepare the master bedroom for his use and cook a little extra."

Once again, Harry's stomach landed around the level of his toes.  
>Hermione's expression quickly shifted from shock to rage as Lavender finally looked up and realized they weren't alone.<p>

"You!" Hermione hissed, drawing her wand in one fluid motion.

But before Harry's own wand had been drawn, before Hermione had fired off a spell, Lavender shrieked in terror and vanished back up the stairwell, leaving her dress to flutter to the floor behind her.  
>"Hary! How <em>could<em> you! With- with _her_, of all people!"

"Hermione, it's not what you-"

"And exactly _what_ do I think, Harry Potter? That you've been sleeping with- with- with _Lavender Brown_, of all people? I know you're torn up about Ginny, Harry, but to sink so low as... as... with _her_!"

Harry growled, low and deep in his throat. Wisely, Kreacher vanished from the kitchen with a quiet pop. "And just _what_ is wrong with Lavender, Hermione?"

The brunette swallowed once, clearly regretful of bringing Ginny up in the conversation, but plowed ahead regardless, "She's _Lavender_! First I have to watch her mooning over Ron for half a year, and now I find out you're shagging her! Don't you have any _shame_? Any self-respect? She's Gryffindor's public bicycle!"

In eight years of friendship, Harry had never, ever, thought about hitting Hermione.  
>As the crack of his slap echoed across the kitchen, she seemed just as surprised by his actions as he was. "H- Harry? Did you just slap me?"<p>

The wizard growled out, "Yes. And I'll do it again next time I hear you say something like that."  
>Drawing herself up to her full height, Harry could feel his friend's skin heat up with rage, and was at least slightly aware that her bushy hair was rising into the air as static- or magic- built up in it. "Harry Potter... how <em>dare<em> you!"

Her hand came up in slow motion to Harry, but he decided quite calmly not to move. He did, after all, deserve it. He'd been taught- one of the few things he'd learned, aside from cooking and cleaning from the Dursley's- not to hit girls.

The second crack sounded, to Harry, much like Kreacher apparating, though the elf didn't come to his rescue.  
>Hermione seemed, not exactly mollified, but at least justified by her own slap. "I never thought I'd see the day that you'd hit me, Harry! Of all the people I trusted to keep me safe, you were the last! The very last I thought I'd have to protect myself from! Even more than Ron, and he's my <em>fianceé<em>."

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but you were way out of line."  
>"<em>I<em> was out of line? Just because you're shagging Lavender doesn't mean-"

The cold glare he was now sending her way seemed to be more effective than the slap had been. "I am _not_ shagging Lavender, Hermione. Have not, am not. Even if I am, what difference is it to you? What business do you have judging me? You have _no_ right to tell me what to do, Hermione Granger."

The fight seemed to leave her at once as Hermione burst into tears. "I... I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean..."

"You did, and I'm not going to let you lie to me. You did mean it, at least a little, or you wouldn't have said it."

She nodded, still crying, "I know, it's just... I wouldn't have... it's just... the stress, and..."  
>Harry nodded, pulling her into a hug. "It's all right. I know you're upset. But that's no reason to take it out on Lavender or me."<p>

She resisted at first, but eventually calmed herself. "I'm sorry, Harry... It's just... after the things I've heard about..."

"I'd think," he interrupted, "that you of all people would judge others by what they _know_ rather than what they've heard or suspect."  
>She froze, but burst into renewed tears moments later, mumbling apologies all the while.<br>"Listen, 'Mione, I just want you to remember... you were the one that saved her from Greyback. You saved her, not anyone else. If you really hated her for that stuff with Ron in sixth year, would you have done that? I know you always try to be a really good person, but you aren't a saint. I mean, just ask Malfoy's nose if you are."

She snorted wetly against his shoulder and picked herself up, wiping her nose on her own sleeves as she went. "You're right... I'm sorry. I don't hate her, it's just... the surprise. And I've heard so much about what... about what she's had to do to survive since... since it happened... I just..."

Any sympathy Harry had for Hermione's situation seemed to go up in flames, vanishing in an instant.  
>"Anyway," he forced out as calmly as he could, "I'm sorry, but I really can't let you stay here. She's having a hard time adjusting to even me and Kreacher. If... if you were here, I think it'd be even harder on her."<p>

She sniffled and nodded, "Right, well... I guess I can go back to the Burrow, or maybe my parent's."  
>He nodded, "Maybe you can even go find a nice flat for the two of you to stay in after you get married."<p>

She nodded weakley, "Maybe. That... that sounds pretty nice. I mean, I love the Burrow, but..."  
>Harry agreed, "But it's not <em>your<em> home. I can't wait till I get out of this place... I can't think of why I haven't already, to be honest."  
>Hermione gave a weak chuckle and drew in a breath to keep talking, but Harry had had enough.<br>"Listen, Hermione, I'm... I'm really happy for you and Ron, but I need to go. You need to go. Congratulations. Let me know when you get the date really set, okay? I'll see if I can make an appearance."

"But Harry- you- you aren't sure? Aren't- aren't we your best friends?"

Harry shrugged non-commitedly. "I really don't know any more, 'Mione. A year ago... I'd never, ever have missed it. But after Gin and Fred died... things changed."

The brunette sniffed and pulled away, turning back toward the fire. She didn't go through, however. With her back still turned to him, Hermione asked softly, "Can you ever forgive us?"

He shrugged again, "Not sure there's anything to forgive. It was hard on all of us. Molly and Arthur did what they could, but every time I saw red hair, it reminded me of her. The Butter Dish Incident, flying in the orchard, my seventeenth birthday in her room... I..."

Brown hair slid up and then down Hermione's back as she nodded, "I... I understand. It was hard for them, too. They thought- they still _do_ think of you as one of their own, you know. But they keep thinking about you and Ginny _together_, and seeing just one of you is... well..."

Harry nodded this time, "Yeah, I know. But Ginny wouldn't want me, or them, to dwell on it forever. We have to move on one day, right?"

The witch nodded again, turning to face him with a drenched face, "Harry, I... I just want to tell you that I love you, and I miss you. I know it seems like I chose Ron over you, but..."

He took a few quick strides toward her and pulled her into another tight hug, "'Mione, you _did_ chose him over me, and you _should_ have. You're one of my best friends, the closest thing to a sister I've ever had, but you don't just love Ron. You're _in_ love with him, and... well, if you'd stayed with me more than him, I'd have been right cross with you. He deserves your attention, and you deserve his. Honestly, I'm happy for you both. I'll... I'll be at the wedding, okay? Just tell me when."

As Hermione agreed and pulled away once more, she whispered, "And... will L- will you be bringing a date?"

Harry sighed, turning away himself, "I don't know, Hermione. I really don't know... but I think I hope so."

"Okay, Harry. I'll see you later, then. I'm sure Pig would love a trip here when we get the date set. I'll... I'll see you later, Harry."

He nodded, but she was already gone in another burst of green flame.

(O)(O)(O)

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon and night alternating between consoling Lavender, assuring her that he didn't believe a word of the rumors Hermione had implied, or worse the other witch's actual accusations, and making sure his plans for the new year- the auror academy- were well and truly finalized.  
>He wanted no other distractions, just a nice, relaxing Christmas, then off to the academy to start his new life without Ginny. And now, maybe without any of the Weasleys or Hermione, too.<p>

_Effing... no... _fuck_ melancholy! Whoever invented that shit... I'm gonna go get the Ressurection Stone just so I can kill them again!_

But aside from the occasional wave of terrible fury, the night passed mostly peacefully. Lavender stayed shut up in Hermione's old room, drawing. At first, he'd been suspicious, but when he'd asked Kreacher to check on her, the elf had returned moments later with wider-than-usual eyes, expressing admiration for the fancy clothing the witch had filled more than two dozen pages with drawings of.  
>Harry had nodded, remembering Lavender and Parvati's obsession with fashion in school. <em>At least she still has a hobby, even if she can't afford to indulge very often...<em>

_Fuck. That.  
>Note to self- Gringotts. Set up a fund for poor artists tomorrow.<em> _Clothes or flowers or music or whatever, this damned world can never have too much art to make it better. Even if I die tomorrow, I still want that to happen. Then I'll really be able to say I did something good for the world. Something besides killing that snake-sucking bastard._

Resolved towards action as he hadn't been in months, Harry closed his work portfolio and went upstairs to prepare for bed.

Three hours later, after listening to Lavender toss and turn in the room above, he had gone up to check on her. Kreacher had been loitering outside the door, twisting his wrinkled hands together with worry, "Master," he whispered in something approaching his old, croaking voice, "she has been moaning for some time. I think it is a nightmare, but I didn't want to wake you or the pretty lady up."

Harry smiled inwardly and outwardly both, "You think she's pretty too, huh, Kreacher?"

The elf nodded, "Kreacher can see she is a good woman, and scars or no, she is pretty for a human."  
>Harry nodded, "I agree, Kreacher. Thank you for not waking her, I'll see to her."<br>"Perhaps a pot of tea?"  
>Harry paused, "If you don't mind, sure. What time is it?"<br>"Two sixteen in the morning, Master. I'll make your tea and then go to sleep so I can have your breakfast ready for your shopping tomorrow, shall I?"  
>"Yes, that's fine. Thanks, Kreacher."<p>

The elf hopped down the stairs one at a time, quietly as he could so as not to wake Lavender by disapparating while Harry crept inside.  
>On the furthest bed, Lavender was twisting back and forth slowly, her face scrunched up in what looked like pain.<p>

"N- Noo... don't... it hurts... I didn't mean... No!"

Just as Harry reached out a hand to steady her, Lavender's blue eyes flew open and a blast of accidental magic threw him to the floor as she screamed.

Shaking his head, Harry jumped up and wrapped his arms around her, whispering as loudly as he could, "Lavender! Lavender, it's me! It's Harry! You're safe! Greyback's gone!"

She didn't seem to respond for several minutes, so when her breathing at last steadied and Harry chanced loosening his arms, he had to catch the girl's head from lolling over to the side. _Already asleep again... if she even really woke up. At least the nightmare's over, I guess._

He moved to lay her back down, but caught an accidental glimpse down the collar of Hermione's pyjamas, which were unbuttoned halfway down, likely in an effort to keep cool since the room was stifling hot despite the winter due to the fire still burning in the fireplace.  
>At first, he started to flush, but caught himself. <em>It's not like I'm seeing <em>everything_. I'm just... just looking at her scar, that's it. Like... comparing. Hers and mine. Yeah..._  
>Harry had reached out and run one light finger from the scar that began below Lavender's ear, down across her throat, and down her chest until it ran into the pyjamas before he caught himself and realized what he was doing.<br>He almost dropped Lavender back to the bed in his sudden panic, but caught himself just in time and lowered her slowly down, then retreated as quickly as he could once his arm was withdrawn from beneath the sleeping witch.  
>Panting, his face burning with embarassment, Harry rushed down to the kitchen, "Kreacher, sorry... she's still asleep, but calm now. Don't worry about the tea, okay? I'm just... I'm just going to take a shower and go back to bed."<br>The elf nodded once, snapping his fingers to clean the teapot of water and whisk it up to the rack over the stove before giving a low bow and climbing into his cupboard.

_And that's another thing... a _cupboard_. I can't believe Hermione's never chewed me out for that... I can't believe _I_ haven't gotten on my case! Making him sleep in a cupboartd, just like the Dursleys..._

It took until Harry had gathered a clean set of underwear and pyjamas and climbed into the shower before he could force down his own shame and go about his business in his usual emotionless (or so he told himself) way.

That is, until, while washing, he noticed- as he always did- the long line of black that stretched from his chest up around his neck to end a little below his right ear. Unlike usual, however, this time Harry did not ignore the scar that Voldemort's Avada Kedavra had given him. Instead, it brought images flashing into his mind of just a few minutes earlier, and of earlier that day when he'd seen both from above and in front a similar, if opposite scar.  
>Lavender's had stretched from left ear to the right and down, Harry's from the right to the left and down. <em>Huh, together, they'd make an X... or a V, I suppose, if hers stops just below the middle of her chest.<em>

Hers was white. His was black. _Opposites again. Weird._

He ran a finger down the line. _It's hard, almost like it's charred or frozen. Hers is soft, like a normal scar. I wonder if hers hurts... mine doesn't, any more._

Unbidden, Harry's mental image of the scars widened in view.

_Wow, she has really nice skin. You'd never know she's been homeless for months. I wonder how... wow. She was so soft, too... And even if she's just using Hermione's shampoo, she smells..._

Harry blinked furiously underneath the stream of hot water to clear his head.

Unfortunately...

His lower head disagreed.

_Well... fuck. Cold shower it is._  
>Without hesitation, the hot was flipped off and within seconds, the winter weather outside had reduced Harry's shower water to near-freezing or worse. Biting back a groan at the shift in temperature, Harry willed himself to calm down.<p>

But the images would not go away, nor would his erection.

_... she'll never know._

_She's your friend! She trusts you! You're helping her!_

_... you saved her life. She _owes_ you this much._

No_! It'd be taking advantage!_

_... and you want to do it so badly..._

_But she could walk in, and-_

_Weak, Potter. This is _your_ bathroom, she has her own. Why would she come in here to find you? And even if she did, you'd still be calling out her name. She'd know you were rubbing one off, thinking about her. Most girls find that a turn on, if you can believe Seamus and Dean..._

His internal debate raged for all of two more seconds.

The last ditch effort by his more moral side attempted to bring up _'what would Ginny think?'_, but the more human side quickly shot it down, _Ginny would help you, if she could. She liked rubbing herself against you, even through the clothes. She liked listening to you moan... just like you're doing right now._

And that was the last straw.  
>While his hand had been moving slowly as he argued with himself, he had moaned, just once in self-pleasure. Abruptly, he switched the hot back on- it took only seconds to return to steaming- and grabbed for his body wash for more lubrication.<p>

Images flashed through his mind, fuelled by recent events and his own -he imagined extremely perverse- imagination of Lavender's mouth on his, on his chest, on his aching member. Perhaps rubbing her pillow-like breasts against his chest, or holding his manhood between them as she bobbed up and down. Or even-

"L- La- _Lavender_!"  
>With a shudder and another groan, Harry fell to his knees.<p>

After he'd caught his breath and recovered from the dizziness his powerful orgasm had brought, Harry, flushed from both bliss and terrible shame, finished washing the evidence off of both himself and the shower wall, aiming the spray to wash the last remnants of sticky good down the drain before climbing on still-unsteady legs and moving slowly down the stairs to take his usual early-morning place at the kitchen table with a mug of tea.

(O)(O)(O)

When Lavender came downstairs early the next morning, she heard two male voices- one Harry's- in the kitchen. The other was familiar, but it wasn't until just before she turned the corner through the open door that she placed it.  
>"Ron? Is that..."<p>

But any smile on her face died at the expression on the red-head's face when he spotted her. The casual look faded into a grimace, and then immediately to one of anger as he turned back to Harry. "So, it's true, then. You're shagging Lavender instead of mourning Ginny."

Her eyes widened at the sudden rage in Harry's face, equal to or surpassing that in her old boyfriend's. _Oh shit..._

"First of all, Ronald Weasley, as I told Hermione last night... I am _not_ fucking shagging Lavender! Second, if I _was_, it would be between _me_ and _her_! It would most sure-as-fuck not have _anything_ to do with _you_, who hasn't even bothered to write me a letter for five months!"  
>She noticed the red color of Harry's face, the extremely defensive posture as he stood to glare at his friend, but did not know what it meant, only that it wasn't only anger. "Harry, it's-"<p>

"No, Lavender, it _isn't_! You are not a- a whore! I will _not_ have my supposed friends calling you that! And I will _not_ have my supposed best friend accuse me of not mourn- mourning- _Ginny_!"

Ron's voice as he rose was cold, colder than either of the others could remember. "All right then, Harry, if that's how it's going to be. You keep deluding yourself. I've sent you mail... maybe not within five months, but as I remember it, it was you who told me to stop, to leave you alone. I know... I know you miss Gin. We all do. But this... this isn't the way. It hasn't even been a year, Potter. Doesn't my sister... doesn't Ginny deserve better?"  
>With a crack louder than any apparition she'd heard before, Harry's fist launched Ron sprawling backwards away from the table towards the fireplace. "Fuck you, Ron! How would you know what I've been through, huh? Have you been here? You haven't seen me debating whether to kill myself or not, have you? <em>Have you?<em> Just- Get out. _Out!_"

Without a word, hand twitching to rub his already darkening jaw (Lavender got the impression that the red-head didn't want to give Harry the satisfaction of seeing him acknowledge the pain), the taller wizard turned and stalked to the fireplace. After grabbing a larger-than-needed handful of floo powder, he turned back over his shoulder for a parting shot, "Good to see you, Lav. Hope you're well. You want an invitation to the wedding, too? I'll still be sending yours, Potter, even if you don't want to come. Some of us- no matter what it seems like to you- still only want what's best for you. And that's for you to stand by your family, and let them stand with you."

As Harry roared out that his family was dead, Lavender only shook her head.

She stood in the doorway for several minutes as the last of the green flames died and Harry thunked himself down on the bench, before making her way over to sit next to him and slowly put one thin arm around him, pulling him toward her.

It didn't take long for her to realize that, temper or no, Harry was not doing very well emotionally. It was, after all, the first time she'd ever seen him cry.

**A/N2:** So... now 3:26. Yep, had to spot-edit. :P

Anyway, the addition I mentioned in chapter 3's A/N's was a bit with Hermione early on, it was a quick scene before, but I put a bit more in to further explain what happened between Harry and the Weasleys. Mind you, I don't think I need to spell it out, and it may seem a bit OOC still, but grief can do strange things to people. However, I'm sure you can also see that there's a light at the end of the tunnel, as it were, and that- at the very least- Hermione and Ron are still trying, even if Harry's resisting.  
>So... angst over for a bit, next chapter is mostly a shopping trip. There's more of the cold pricklies, but some warm fuzzies too... kinda. :)<p>

Next Chapter to be released on 07/31/11, barring another 100 reviews for the chapter... the number of which is slowly creeping up, I'll need 123 total. I know you guys can do better, though, hint hint.  
>The title is "Picking up the pieces", and is just that, in more ways than one.<p>

Lastly, in response to a signed by anon reviewer ("Wow"):  
>I didn't say I would only post the next chapter with 100 reviews. I'm... really not that retarded. Thanks for the vote of confidence. I'm a review whore like just about every other writer, but I don't hold my stories hostage. I write for my own enjoyment, I publish for yours. I'm also a giving enough person to continue to post (It's not exactly a lot of work...) even if I'm in a bad mood or whatever. So... yeah... please make sure you understand what I said before you respond to a statement. I 'did' say (and yes, I checked just to make sure) that I would post EARLY if I got 100 reviews on a given chapter, not that I wouldn't post. :)<p>

Till next week, peebles!


	5. Chap 5 Picking up the pieces

**A/N: **Most sincere apologies for not posting this early this morning- I forgot it was Sunday. :P (Sleep issues combined with no/little work make it hard to keep track of the days sometimes)  
>On the upside, at least I remembered before the day was out... and if you're lucky and I continue to feel guilty, I might just post the next chapter today or tomorrow. Maybe. If you BEG! HA HA HA HAHAHAHAHA!<br>... sorry. That lack of sleep thing, again. But not sorry enough to edit that comment/laughter out. :)  
>Anyway, this is the half-way point (at the end of the chapter, of course, not the start) and is 'just' under half-way length-wise. Enjoy!<p>

**Chap. 5 Pick up the pieces**

"It's true, you know. What they said about me."

There wasn't any response from Harry, so Lavender fell silent for a time.  
>"Well... kind of. It's... half true, I guess."<br>Still, nothing.

"Come on, Harry. You don't need to spend all day sitting at the kitchen table, moping."

He shook his head. He knew she was right, he just... he couldn't look at her. Not after... not after what he'd done in the shower, while thinking of her. He couldn't face her.

"Is it... is this about what Ron said? The... the rumors?"

He didn't answer. Part of it was probably because he just wasn't sure. The rest... well... the less said about that, the better.  
>"Would... would you turn me out if... if I said they were... half-true?"<p>

Again, Harry moved without conscious thought. His green eyes wide, he turned to look at Lavender, but she turned away and scooted a few inches down the bench away from him, blushing.  
>"Wait... what? You mean... what do you mean by 'half' true?"<p>

Lavender shook her head and looked down, still not facing him. "I... I just... did some things I'm not proud of. For... well, for food."

The tea in Harry's stomach suddenly seemed to want to dance a highly uncomfortable jig. "You... you mean you let... you had s- s-sex for..."

She suddenly started crying, but shook her head. "N- No... but... but I... I..."  
>In a fit of gallantry, Harry put one hand tentatively on her shoulder, "You- you don't have to tell me. It's not my business."<p>

Lavender shrugged, but Harry's hand didn't move away. "It's... it's something I think you should... should know. I owe it to you, after..."

"You don't owe me anything, Lavender."

The anger and fury was completely gone from his voice, but the sadness that replaced it was, if anything, worse for the witch. But her decision had been made. She'd done what she had to do, and she refused to regret it. She'd... she'd done what it took. Like any Gryffindor... like... _Ginny wouldn't have. Harry wouldn't have. Face it, Lavender... you're just a weak little tart. You couldn't hack it, so you sold yourself to keep your pathetic life going another day..._  
>"I... I didn't have sex. Not with anyone. But... I did... I did just about everything else. For food. Clothes. Sometimes cash. I... I did what I had to do." <em>And screw you, annoying little voice! I did it because I didn't have a choice! I didn't <em>want_ to, so just... just go away!_

The tea was really fighting to come up after that revelation, but Harry forced it back down just as he forced as much calm as he could into his voice. "Lavender... why... why didn't you ask for help?"

She snorted and turned completely away so he could only see her back and the long wash of curly blonde hair. "From who? My family? Parv? Dean? Seamus? My friends and family... they _cast me out_, Harry! Who else was I supposed to turn to? Who was I supposed to trust? Huh? Can you tell me that?"

His voice was soft, much softer than she'd expected after her rant, "You could have trusted me."

She snorted again, "Right... the great Harry Potter. Why would you even bother with me? No one else would even give me the time of day after Greyback... after he scarred me. Why would you?"  
>Shaking his head, Harry returned his arm to her shoulder, pulling her gently around to look into her eyes for the first time that morning, "Lavender... I wouldn't have turned you away. Remember Remus? Professor Lupin? He was my godfather and my dad's best friend. He was one of <em>my<em> best friends. Sure, there's evil werewolves. You and I both know that. But just because you have a partial form of the curse... it doesn't make you evil. It doesn't make you a monster."

Pushing his arm down as she did so, Lavender wiped her eyes on her long sleeved t-shirt before turning back to face the table directly. She took a sip of Ron's now-cold tea with shaking hands, and murmured, "Can... can I talk to you about it? Will you let me... stay here, if I tell you... tell you everything? If you don't want to, I... I'll understand. I think... I just think I need to get it off my chest before I go crazy. Even if you make me leave, I think I'll just... that I'll feel more, I don't know... more _myself_."

Harry's eyes closed slowly, but when he opened them a moment later, Lavender caught steel that she hadn't seen since before she had been savaged by Greyback. Even then, it had been only in Potter's eyes that she'd seen it. "Lav... Screw your family and your so-called 'friends' if they cast you aside like trash. _I_ know better. I can see it in you. No matter what you've done, no matter what's happened to you, you're still a good person. I won't turn you away. No matter what. That's a promise."

Lavender sniffed once, twice, and then began her tale. At first, she was quieter than he could hear, but only a few words in, she'd built up her courage enough to resume a normal tone.

"... and that's when my mum and dad kicked me out. My sister kicked me right between the legs. I can tell you, male or female, that _hurts_. You just have to kick a little higher on a girl. So I slapped her, and because she got a red mark- not even a scratch- my parents decided I was too dangerous, so out I went. They gave me an hour to pack up before they called the aurors.  
>"After that, I went to Parvati's. Padma answered the door, and she seemed okay with me. But when I asked Parvati if I could stay with them, she told me to wait while she talked to her father. A few minutes later, I was looking for the bathroom, when... when I heard Parv convincing her father not to let me stay. Seven years of friendship... <em>best<em> friends, gone like that. Padma was crying, she was so mad at her sister and dad, but... there was nothing she or I could do. Parv had told them I was tainted, so that was it. No friends, no family, just me. I ran into Seamus that first night. He gave me a few galleons, all he had, but... he wasn't doing so well either, what with his mum getting injured, and having to support his little sister and brother and mum. I haven't seen him since, I think he moved to Ireland and is staying there with them.  
>"Dean, I ran into a few weeks later. He's... he asked me out. Lucky for me I had one outfit that the other beggers hadn't stolen that was still pretty nice, I was wearing it that day. I... I'm not proud of it, but I was hoping he would still want me. He took me to a nice place, then... then back to a hotel. Once I realized what he wanted, though... I left. He was so mad, but... I couldn't stay. I saw him a few months later, but he didn't see me. He was with Katie Bell, but they were fighting. She said something about how he'd better man up and be a daddy, so... I think maybe he let being of age go to his head a little too much. I don't know... it's not like I can judge."<p>

Harry nodded, scowling. He'd liked Dean, who'd even supported him against Seamus when the Irish wizard had agreed with the Ministry and Prophet that he was a lying lunatic in their fifth year. But hearing this...

"I think that's what planted the idea in my head, though... Dean, I mean. A few weeks later, I saw a... what do the Muggles call 'em? Prostitons? Anyway, I saw one of them in an alley where I was sleeping... I curled up and plugged my ears, but she was working for like, two hours with a line. Made... I don't know, a lot of money, I guess. I don't know Muggle money at all, but it was a lot of those bill things. And then I started to wonder...

"Would it be so bad? Just lay there, think of something else... get paid. If you were good, or pretty, I imagined you could get several galleons a night. That's pretty good money compared to shop-girl wages. So... after a while, I convinced myself to give it a try. After all, who'd want an actual relationship with me anyway? Scarred. Cursed. So... so I covered them up with magic. Went to Sensu-Alley- that's toward the back of Knockturn- and... well, set up shop. That first night, I only had one 'customer'. An older wizard, maybe forty. He was... the way he was _leering_ at me... but he paid for a few hours in a hotel room, and paid in advance... so... so I went to work."  
>"Lavender," Harry interrupted while she paused for breath, "You really don't have to tell me this. I mean... if you want to, then I'll listen, but..." He refused to give in to the weakness, not if she needed him. As much as he hated the thought of what was once the prettiest girl in Hogwarts (to almost everyone, even him before he'd fallen for Ginny) stooping so low, if she needed him... he'd be there.<p>

"No, Harry... thank you, but I want to talk about it. Please."

He nodded, and after a moment she resumed.  
>"It wasn't all that bad, not really. He was so excited, once I got his... got his robes open, and I saw... saw <em>him<em>, I kind of went on like... like an Inferi, I guess. I was moving, and I could see, but it wasn't really _me_, you know? Anyway... It wasn't the _first_ one I'd seen, I have a little brother, and I saw my dad once or twice when I was a little girl in the shower, but... aside from Parvati's stolen Playwitches, I'd never seen one... well, _up_. I touched it, and he shuddered... so I stroked it a few times, and before I knew it... _pop_. While he was smiling, I... I stunned him, cleaned my hand for like, two hours in the sink, and then ran. Took everything he had. Glad he never saw me again, 'cause I bet he was pissed at being both shortchanged _and_ robbed."

Harry fought back the snicker, but had a harder time holding back the image of Lavender's soft hands on his own manhood, replacing his own in his memory of that morning. He looked away quickly before she started again.

"So... I started just charging for that. Then a younger guy, who smelled really nice, saw me and... took me out, like Dean did. The hotel was better than... well, better than the one Dean or the older guy paid for. He wasn't a bad kisser, either, but he was really nervous. He told me... told me that I was gonna be his first. That his dad was paying, so he could become a man, or something. Poor kid was a Muggle, never even knew I was a witch.  
>But... he was so nice, and I couldn't just leave him with just a... just a- a hand-job. So... so I went, um... went down on him."<p>

Harry gulped just as Lavender turned back toward him. _That_ image would be haunting him for days. _Wet hair under the shower-head, blonde bobbing up and down on... _No_, Harry! Bad Harry! Down, boy!_  
>She shrugged, looking down at the table sheepishly again, "I guess it was okay. I've... I've heard of more disgusting things, anyway. He seemed to really like it, 'cause it didn't take very long. I don't know, maybe it's a hidden talent of mine."<p>

Suddenly, Lavender burst into tears again, prompting Harry to put his own thoughts aside and pull her close once again.

After she'd calmed, Lavender started talking again without prompting, "So... he was the first. I only ever... ever did _that_ with the nicer, younger, or better-looking guys. Usually it was the ones who were... nervous, or whatever. The older or creepier ones I just did the other thing. Twice, I let them touch me, but only through my shirt. Both times, it was... _ew_. Just... no. It's one thing, if it's your boyfriend, but just getting... getting paid for it was too much, you know? It made me feel so much worse, so much cheaper than I already did, and I couldn't take it. So I said no more. After... after a month of that, though, I'd saved up enough to buy enough clothes for winter, and kept them in a secret spot. I thought I was okay, until it got robbed. They only left what I had on when you found me. No money, no clothes, no food... just a few old rags I'd already been wearing that were dirty, the underwear I had on, and a tin cup I'd stolen that had a hole near the handle. That was... a week ago, now."

Harry nodded slowly, "So... so it's been a while since... since you had to do that?"

Lavender nodded, "Yeah... I know it makes me terrible, but I did what I had to do, right? So... so it doesn't make me a bad person. At least, I don't think... think it does."

"No, Lav... I don't think it makes you a bad person. I mean, I've never been in that position. I can't really say. But I don't think less of you, if that's worth anything. I think you did the best you could with the options you could see."

She started crying again, soft and quiet this time, as Harry held her close, his mind churning. _Have I ever felt that helpless? That alone? I don't think I have. Maybe in degree, but not in kind. No matter how much the Dursleys hated me, they never kicked me out. I always had a roof and a bed, if nothing else. But if I'd been infected with Lycanthropy, and they found out... what would they have done?_

A little while later, Kreacher popped into the kitchen and held out a small leather satchel. "Master, here is the money from Gringotts. Kreacher apologizes for the delay, there was a rather long line."  
>"'s fine, Kreacher. Thanks for going. Do you need us to get anything while we're out?"<br>The elf shook his head, "No, thank you, Master. Kreacher will do the house shopping later in the week when we run out of tea. Does Miss Brown want anything in particular?"  
>Lavender shook her head, but Harry answered for her regardless, "How about we all go together this time? That way we can be sure not to miss anything, and you don't have to do all the work yourself."<p>

Kreacher gave a low bow. He might have once protested that he enjoyed doing the work, but the elf had learned that his Master also enjoyed working, and often chose to split the duties of keeping up the house with him. An unusual trait in a wizard, to be sure, but Harry Potter was no normal wizard.

After the elf had moved up to the attic to rearrange it (again) in preparation for the houses' weekly top-to-bottom cleaning, Harry asked Lavender, "Hey, are you up for a bit of shopping, today? I thought... well, I thought about taking you to Diagon Alley."

The witch separated from him quickly, flushing a little as she did so and looking away before answering, "Why?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, like I said before... I have money. It's not an issue for me, so... so I'd like to buy some things for you. Clothes, umm... necessities. Whatever you need."  
>Fighting his own blush was only possible because of her own at the mention of 'necessities', as both fought not to recall the flash of blue (if Harry were honest with himself, much more than a flash) when they'd tumbled down the stairs the day before.<br>"I... I suppose I... but why? I still don't get why you're willing to spend so much on me. I've already eaten like, ten galleon's worth of food since I've been here."

Harry shrugged, "I don't really get it myself. But I am. I just want to help, and I can, so why not?"

Lavender shook her head as she stood up and started moving toward the door, "It's not that I'm not grateful, I just... I'm confused, that's all. I suppose... I suppose I'm wondering what you're getting out of all this."

Inexplicably (to Lavender, at least), Harry blushed and turned away. After a few seconds, he rose and followed her up to the entry way and opened the coat closet to withdraw his long coat-like cloak for her and a jacket for himself. As he slipped into it, he couldn't help but watch the way Lavender bent and flexed as she slipped her arms into the too-long sleeves, or the way her breasts slid against the cloth as she lifted her arms to pull her long hair out over the collar.  
>"I- I, er, I'm not really getting anything, I guess. The satisfaction of knowing I'm doing something good, maybe, but, I mean... it's not like that's a big deal either. It's not the goal, anyway."<p>

As they moved out the door and turned down Grimmauld Road towards the nearest tube station, Lavender asked again, "So, what's the goal, then?"

Harry didn't answer.

(O)(O)(O)

"So, Harry... why're we taking the Underground?"  
>He shrugged, but whispered back, "Just had a thought, that's all. I want to head over to Picadilly before Diagon Alley, and since I've never actually been there..."<p>

Not having been brought up in Muggle London either, Lavender didn't know much about the area as she'd never been to Muggle London at all, only that it was in central London, and was home to the once truly-famous Ritz Hotel.

Almost half an hour later, Harry absentmindedly offered his hand to Lavender as they made their way through the early morning business crowd off the train and up onto Picadilly Street through the Circus station. The eyes of both wizard and witch were wide; Harry had only seen the place in passing on the Dursley's television or on one of Aunt Petunia's gossip periodicals.  
>"Hm. Yeah, I think this'll do. Come on, let's go."<br>"Go where, Harry? You haven't said-"

"Just come on, you'll see!"

Something about his grin was infectious, so despite her earlier sorrow, Lavender followed with a small grin of her own, barely able to keep up with him as he pulled her through the crowd.

(O)(O)(O)

"Harry... what are... are you trying to buy this flat for _me_? No way! It's... it's too much!"

The wizard shook his head, still grinning widely, "Nope. Not for you- for _me_. Well, me and Kreacher. You can stay if you want, of course, that's why I insisted on three bedrooms."

"But-"

"Come on, Lavender, think about it. If I sell Grimmauld, I can buy this place flat-out with no drop in money. It'll save on heat and cooling, and there's no more empty, wasted space, and it won't- well, it won't be filled with all that dark decor, if you know what I mean."

The realtor, a middle-aged woman who wore her laugh lines like a badge of honor, gave Harry a sceptical look. "Mr. Potter, are you _sure_ this kind of flat is what you're looking for? I mean, on Piccadily, right in the heart of London? You can't be older than twenty, so you and your fiancee... well, are you sure it's right for you?"

Harry's grin vanished at once, though Lavender did her best to hide her own growing one. "It's- we're not- she's not my- I mean, no, we aren't engaged. Not even dating. Just- just friends. She's just having a bit of a tough time, so she's staying with me for a bit, but my house is big and old and drafty, so I thought maybe I'd sell it and get a smaller one. Somewhere close to the center of town, that's all."  
>She sniffed with something approaching disdain, but Harry wasn't bothered, "You <em>do<em> realize that an average flat in this area costs upwards of two and a half million pounds, don't you, Mr. Potter?"  
>Lavender gasped, eyes resembling a house elf's in shock, but Harry only nodded, "Well, no, but as I said on the phone, money's not an issue. If it's two and a half million or twenty, I don't care. I just want a nice place."<p>

The realtor, a Mrs. Bentley, still seemed sceptical, but she shrugged, "Well, it's your money I suppose. Shall I show you another flat nearby, closer to Soho, or is this one to your liking?"

Harry shrugged, "Well, I don't know. I've never gone house shopping before."  
>The older woman cringed, "Mr. Potter, <em>please<em> don't tell me that. I try to be just in my dealings, but that kind of comment, from an apparently affluent young man... you don't want me to charge you a hundred million pounds for a ten million pound flat, d then. Nearer to Soho, you said?"

(O)(O)(O)

Two hours later, Lavender was near tears. Harry was actually starting to worry, since she hadn't said a word, had barely nodded or shaken her head to a direct question, for the entire time. She had seemed content to follow around Harry and Mrs. Bentley as they checked six flats in four different buildings around Piccadilly, St. James street, the A4 Strand, and one further west on Knightsbridge Road, just south of Hyde Park.  
>It was the last that really caught Harry's attention. He wanted the proximity to the shopping in downtown Muggle London that Piccadilly brought (and it didn't get more downtown than Trafalgar Square or Buckingham Palace), but the view from the eight floor penthouse apartment was breathtaking.<br>"So... yeah..." Lavender mumbled as soon as she dazedly walked inside the flat. Within a few seconds, Harry watched her look left, right, and then walk forward to the massive, floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated the north wall overlooking the park.

Realizing that the witch's brain had probably overloaded several flats earlier, Harry left her alone and followed Mrs. Bentley from the cavernous entry/entertaining area, complete with inset seating for the large television- he thought it might have been wider than he was tall- to the offset kitchen, fully equipped, to the double bath (with foaming spa action at the press of a button), and the two bedrooms across from the large bath, one with a bay window overlooking the park, the other with a similar window overlooking much of south London.  
>The feature that really sold it for him, though, wasn't the apartment itself, it was what was right outside it. Literally.<p>

A step out the sliding doors on the north wall took him to a long, narrow patio stretching along the length of the flat, with a twisting iron staircase leading up to the roof, where, after he climbed up, he found a jaccuzzi, a pool, and several lawn chairs for sunning. After returning, he asked Mrs. Bentley, "That pool and stuff up on the roof, is that just for this apartment?"  
>She shook her head, "No, the owner specified that it was accessible to the whole building, but there's only six flats, so not a whole lot of people will be using it. The entrance for the others is on the opposite corner, where the elevator is."<br>"Ah... are the other flats like this?"  
>"No, the others are single-person dwellings on the fourth through seventh floors, yours is the eighth, and the first through third are businesses, with the first being a storefront, as you saw. I believe the third is an art studio, but I'm not sure about the second, as I've never seen it open."<br>_That'll do it. Done deal._  
>"So... how much?"<p>

The realtor's eyes widened again before narrowing slightly. "So... you've decided already? Most people take a fair amount of time to decide on a large purchase like this."

Harry shrugged, further cementing the older woman's opinion that he was a young man without any idea of the value of his money.  
>Of course, if she'd have asked, Harry would have explained that he knew it very well- he just didn't care.<p>

"Harry?"

Lavender immediately had his attention, and he walked over to stare out the huge windows alongside her, ignoring that he'd just asked the realtor a question. "What's up?"

"You... are you _sure_ about this? I mean... if... people will _talk_."

"Let them. What do I care? You and me know the truth."

"But... Ron, and Hermione. They already think... and if you buy a new place, and I'm still staying with you..."

For at least the third time since entering the flat he was certain he wanted, Harry shrugged again. "I'm not going to let that stop me. I can't change their opinions any more now than I could in second year when everyone thought I was the Heir of Slytherin. Either one day they'll figure out the truth, or they won't."

Mrs. Bentley, meanwhile, had chosen to sit on one of the long couches that circled around the inset floor to wait for the couple- who, regardless of their assurances to the contrary, she was sure were exactly that- to discuss with each other their choice. As she had practiced for years, she shut her ears off to give them all the privacy they could and started humming softly to herself a lullaby she had learned from her grandmother.

"But..."

"Is there something wrong with the flat?"

Lavender shook her head, "No, it's not that, it's just... I'm not sure this is such a good idea, that's all."  
>"The flat? Believe me, this is not a big deal to me."<p>

The witch's eyes rolled, "I believe that. You saw how shocked I was when I heard you grew up with nothing. Believing you're wealthy is not a stretch for me. It's just... this is a _house_. A _home_ that you seem intent on sharing with _me_. That's... that's a big thing to a girl. Even a cursed one."

Harry couldn't resist rolling his eyes. Fortunately, Lavender didn't seem to notice. "Well... I hate to show you one of the great mysteries of the male mind, but it's _not_ a big deal to me. If it bothers you, though, I won't buy it. I don't really mind Grimmauld, it's just not the place I'd choose to live in forever, you know? But I like this place. It's airy, open, has lots of light and a great view. Lots of stuff to do nearby, in the heart of London... I like it, so... I want it. But if you don't, I'll pass."

"Harry, you really aren't helping..."

"Sorry?"  
>With a long-suffering sigh, Lavender turned toward him, eyes moist, "You're still doing it."<br>"Doing... what?"

"You're asking me to make this decision... this decision about _us_. When there _is_ no us. This is your life, it's your decision. You don't have to talk me into it, I'll just... make my own way."

"Like you've been doing the last six-" He cut himself off and turned away for a moment, "Sorry. That was terrible of me. I only... I mean that I don't _want_ you to have to make your own way. I want us to be friends for real, the kind that can live together and not get on each other's nerves too much, like we did in school. Is that so bad?"

She shook her head, "It's not bad at all. It's just... well, I guess I've gotten used to people not being nice. It's hard to... hard to accept, I suppose."

He nodded, "I know what that's like. It took me... probably three years to learn that it was okay to get a hug, even to shake someone's hand without getting them mad. But I've learned, and you can relearn. I'll help you, if you want it, all you want."  
>She sniffed and turned away again, nodding, "I think... right now, there isn't anything I want more. It's been a long time since anyone but you has been... well... you know."<p>

He nodded as well, "Right then. I'll just go talk to Mrs. Bentley again, then. I'll come get you when I'm ready to go back."

Lavender gave him a watery-eyed smile as he turned away.

"So, how much again?"

Mrs. Bentley stood and pulled a piece of paper from out of her briefcase, "This flat is listed at seventeen million pounds, fully furnished."  
>Harry nodded once more, "Sounds good, it's a pretty nice place. When can we move in?"<p>

The older woman blinked twice. "When... well, after your cheque clears, I suppose you'll be able to move in at once. Depending on how long your financial institution takes, that could-"  
>"Can't I just pay in cash?"<p>

"C- Cash? Seventeen million pounds... in cash?"

Harry nodded with a grin, fully expecting... yep, _that_.

Mrs. Bentley fainted, falling back onto the couch.

**A/N2:** Again, apologies for the late post. So... much of the emotional damage (or at least the causes thereof) have been explored now, and some healing has begun. So what's left for our intrepid duo? Well, the story's only half over, and while the drama may be 'mostly' over, it's not done quite yet.  
>Just remember that this is, in the end, a feel-good fic, and it has already passed it's low-point emotionally (that was last chapter and this one). Expect brighter things from now on, at least for the most part.<p>

So, to review: 137 reviews needed for early posting. Unless I feel guilty later tonight or tomorrow, in which case you'll get next chapter when I get around to it.  
>Lastly, I apologize for any mistakes in this chapter grammarspelling (or other) wise. I want it up in a hurry, and haven't had the brain power in more than a few days to actually edit/proof. So unless someone wants to volunteer for that Beta I mentioned a few weeks back... I might get around to it eventually, but likely won't. At least for this chapter.

Till next week, peebles!


	6. Chap 6 Soho Shuffle

**A/N: **Well, as you can see, I didn't get around to posting this chapter early. You'll survive, though, I'm sure.  
>This is one of the shorter chapters, and is largely a more light-hearted bridge, there's a bit of angsty (read: angry!Harry) stuff too.<br>The part I was going to add here just didn't fit, instead, it's down at the end of Chapter 9, the 2nd-to-last chapter. Some of you are looking forward to it (in fact, it was something I'd forgotten to put in earlier but that a reviewer reminded me of when he/she mentioned wanting to see it or something similar). That edit is now done, but you still won't see it for a few weeks.  
>Last bit of background: Soho's an area of downtown London, known for shopping (amongst other things). It's near Buckingham Palace, Pickadilly Circus (and Pickadilly in general), a bit east of Hyde Park where they live. It's probably one of the best-known shopping districts in the world, and yes, Soho Shuffle is a song title. Don't know the song off the top of my head- don't even know if I've heard it before. Anyway... enough rambling from me. Enjoy!<p>

**Chap. 6 Soho Shuffle**

"Well, this has been a productive day so far. Shall we head off to Gringotts once she wakes up?"

Lavender couldn't resist Harry's playful grin, so she was sporting one of her own when she joined him on the couch across from the older woman, "That was pretty mean, Harry. She's been nice, what'd you do that for?"

He shrugged, totally unrepentant, "Well, for one, she didn't think I'd be able to do it. I think she thought we've been wasting her morning. Turns out it wasn't a waste at all, right? I mean, I'm no master of conversion rates, but I think seventeen million pounds is about three and a half million Galleons. She's making a fair bit for a half day's work plus some paperwork, I guess."  
>This time, Lavender rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore the vast sum Harry was trying to drop, even more so than what he was spending it on. "Harry... it's still not nice. Look at it from her view. She probably thinks you're some lovestruck kid with no idea how much a place like this costs, thinking you can afford it on a small inheritance or something."<br>He winked, "So? Doesn't mean she needs to be rude, even a little. Still... she's coming 'round I think."

"Mr. Potter? Is that... were you _serious_?"  
>He nodded, still smiling wickedly, "Yep. Seventeen million. I can put in a little more if you can have everything finished by next week."<br>Mrs. Bentley paled. "E- Extra? Next week? Certainly! When would you like to make the payments and sign the papers?"  
>He shrugged, "Well, I don't think you want to carry the money around, so which bank do you use for deposits? I can meet you there, if you can give me an address. Tomorrow's probably okay. You've given me your telephone number if it's an issue for me, though I doubt it will be."<br>"Well... okay, I guess that will do, then. I'll just finalize as much of the paperwork as I can and set up the utilities in your name today, then, shall I? Since you're being so generous, I'd love to go the extra mile for you, Mr. Potter."  
>He smiled, "Cool. In that case, Mrs. Bentley, it's been a pleasure to meet you. We'll see you tomorrow at...?"<p>

Once they'd set up a place and time, the wizard and witch left the still-shocked realtor in the apartment and walked out the door, disapparating to the little courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron that led into Diagon Alley.

As they walked toward Gringotts, it was relatively easy for Harry to ignore the stares in their direction. After all, he was used to it.

Once they'd gotten inside the bank, and he'd left Lavender near the door (she claimed not to have any business, so wanted to stay out of the queue), it was a little harder. While he was certainly getting a few looks, the harsher ones were definitely going toward the witch rather than him.  
>By the time he'd changed over the appropriate amount of galleons to cash- plus an extra million for shopping if Lavender chose to hit up the Muggle part of the city at some point- though, the wizard was fuming. He took her hand in his, shot a glare at just about everyone looking their way, and leaned over to give Lavender a quick peck on the cheek before snaking one arm around her waist.<p>

"Harry?" she asked quietly.  
>"Just go along with it," he muttered softly, "'till we get out of here or they stop glaring at you for something you couldn't control."<p>

"But I-"

"Ssh. May as well let my fame do some good, right?"  
>She didn't argue again, for which Harry was glad. After all, it was easier this way to pretend his reasons were totally altruistic, and ignore the small- yeah, right- part of him that was enjoying their proximity very much.<p>

If anything, it was worse outside. While almost everyone seemed cowed by Harry's glares in their direction, it didn't stop anyone who recognized the scars on Lavender's face and neck from moving away suddenly, most of them visibly frightened.  
>Inside Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, the proprietess seemed quite happy to have Harry Potter back in her shop after he'd left school, but after she'd seen Lavender...<br>"I'm sorry, Miss Brown. I can't help you. I wish I could, but if I sold you clothes I'd lose so much business... it'd drive me under. You understand."

Without a word, the witch turned and left, leaving Harry to wonder exactly what had changed. More than one of his school years, Lavender- more often than not accompanied by Parvati- had been in Madame Malkin's before, and long after he'd left discussing fashion or robe design with the staff in excited tones.  
>Surely someone who'd known the girl- at least as a customer- for years wouldn't judge her based on... but the evidence seemed incontrivertable. With a sigh, Harry made the decision to do something he really hated. "Hmph. If that's how you treat loyal customers here, I think I'll take my business to Twilfit and Tattings."<p>

He ignored Madame Malkin's scowl as he followed Lavender outside.  
>"Come on, Lav, let's try up here."<br>Mechanically, she followed, doing her best to keep the despair locked up.

(O)(O)(O)

"I've had it! If this is how the Wizarding World treats people who've done _nothing wrong_, then they can all stuff it!"  
>"Harry, don't get upset over me. It's not-"<br>"Lavender... you should probably not finish that statement."

"But-"

"No. You _are_. End of discussion."

"But Harry, I-"

"Lavender..."

This time, she listened. She had been startled, even a little scared of Harry at several points before. She had thought him a raving lunatic for a number of months, if she were honest with herself. But this... this was something else. The shadow in his voice made her wonder, truly wonder, if Harry was the hero everyone said he was. "H... Harry?"

The wizard shook his head violently and lifted his eyes to stare into hers. "I'm serious. If this is how it's going to be... then I'm gone. I didn't effing die for this kind of bigotry. Tomorrow I'll have Gringotts start sending the funds to a Muggle bank instead. My only contact will be with the Goblins. At least _they_ treat people fairly no matter what. After that, I'm going to disappear."  
>"But your friends, your-"<br>"I only have one friend right now, Lavender."

She sniffed for a moment before she realized he was talking about her. "But Ron, and Hermione-"  
>Continuing the trend, he interrupted again, "Nope. They lost that right when they started acting like everyone else. I'd never have believed it, but the stuff they said about you... even if I found out later it's sort of true, they still had no right to say that sort of thing about you. Besides... if something big happens, it's not like Hermione's not smart enough to track me down anyway. She'd probably hit up the Goblins first, then start looking through the phone directories till she found me. Shouldn't take too long, how many Harry Potters are their in Britain, anyway? I'll go to their wedding- I said I would- but that's it."<p>

"If... are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes, I think I am. I also think you should come with me. There's idiots in the Muggle world, too, but not like this. You won't get stares and glares from every single person on the street. You could take art lessons. Go into fashion for real. I don't know. Life the life you want, just among Muggles instead of Wizards."

The fact that they were having his conversation in the Leaky Cauldron, surrounded by people who could overhear them didn't seem to dawn on either of them. All Harry had seemed to be concerned with was that Tom, the wizened and hunchbacked old Innkeeper, had not spared more than a single, smiling glance to Lavender, instead focusing on Harry, who had been the one to approach him about a late lunch.  
>"I... I can try it?"<p>

Harry nodded, "It's a deal, then. Tomorrow, you and I just disappear, and no one's any the wiser. We'll do something with our lives, something worth doing, and not look back."

The witch nodded, still not quite sure she really understood what Harry was saying, but not willing to disagree, either. It sounded good, after all. Almost too good to be true, really.

(O)(O)(O)

Lavender was amazed at how accurate Harry's prediction was. While she'd certainly noticed a few looks, they tended much more toward pity at worst, and simple curiosity at best as opposed to terror or hatred. In fact, surrounded by the lights, the music, and the crowds that swarmed Coventry, Soho, and Piccadilly in preparation for Christmas, she was hard-pressed to remember the suffering she had been enduring only a few days earlier.  
>Harry, for his part, was just as awed by the lights and music as well, never having really had a Muggle Christmas. Like Lavender, he walked around with a wide smile stretching his face, laughed at children running in the snow and gawking at storefront windows, and otherwise enjoying the season.<p>

"Ooh, Harry, I've heard of this place!"  
>"You have?" he asked stupidly, looking up at the massive building of glass and light brown brick. After a moment, though, he understood with a glance across the street, "Oh- that Realtor office we went into, that's also part of Harrod's, I guess, look- it's right there. So we walked by here yesterday, and I didn't even notice."<br>Lavender grinned, but it faltered momentarily. "Harry... are you sure about this? I feel really bad spending your money. I mean..."  
>He shrugged, pulled out his wallet, a gift from Dudley last year that he hadn't recieved until long after the War had ended (and which had surprised him to no end, prompting a scramble to purchase a late present for his cousin in return) and handed half the bills to Lavender. "Look, early Christmas present. Now it's <em>your<em> money."

She blushed furiously, but took it slowly, rolled the bills up, and slipped it all into the pocket of her only pair of pants.  
>"Now come on," he said as he took her hand and started crossing the street toward the gigantic department store, "let's go shopping!"<br>Lavender couldn't help but giggle. _If I'd known Harry Potter liked shopping, I'd have snatched him up years ago, Ginny be damned!_

(O)(O)(O)

Seven hours later, Harry was ready to admit defeat. He'd taken two hours to buy presents for almost everyone he was close to six months ago, but Lavender was still going strong after having filled several dozen bags- he'd summoned Kreacher to whisk them home in secret after every even dozen, so it was easy to keep track- and showed no signs of stopping.  
>"Lav," he called out from the bench he was resting on in the women's apparel department- an entire floor of the large building.<br>The return call was distant, so with a weary sigh, he took up the nine bags he was currently carrying and slouched toward her. He heard an older woman whisper to her friend- or maybe sister- on his way by about what a loyal boyfriend he was, but didn't bother responding.

When he found her, Lavender was holding up a lacy red bra to her chest as she stood in front of a mirror. Harry turned scarlet and backed around the corner he'd just come from before she noticed. _How did I not notice I was in the 'necessaries' section? Bloody hell... well... I called her, nothing for it now, I guess..._

Fortunately, Lavender had set the bra on the larger stack- it went from the bench up to nearly his waist- and turned to browse the nearest aisle again as he approached. "Hey, Lavender... I really don't want to sound like a whiner, but are you almost done? It's getting late, the store's going to close in a bit, and I'm getting worn out."

She turned scarlet at once and nodded without a word. Lavender turned away, but found no solace- he was still watching her in the mirror. She looked down next, scooped up the 'necessaries' in both arms, and started moving toward the nearest counter. "I think I got all I needed. Tops, bottoms, shirts, jeans- I'm so grateful to Hermione for introducing me to those, if for nothing else I've ever gotten from her- dresses, a coat, gloves, boots, shoes, shoes, more shoes, socks, and some shoes, and hair clips and ties, some of my own shower things, toothbrush and paste, all of that... yeah, I think we can be done."

Harry nodded, bemused, but not sure why he was. He'd known full well that Lavender needed pretty much everything, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise that it would take longer, right? Truth be told, after he'd finally had both the presence of mind and time to do so after the Battle of Hogwarts, he'd done much the same thing, though in his defense, it hadn't taken nearly as long.

"That'll be... two hundred twelve pounds and fifteen pence, dears," the cashier informed them. Lavender, slowly getting used to Muggle money after having been forced by Harry to perform several transactions over the course of the day, handed the cashier three hundred-pound notes with another shy look at Harry.

A few short minutes later, Kreacher had taken the last of the bags (barring the outfit Lavender had selected to wear for the rest of the evening- Kreacher had also offered to burn Lavender's old once-ragged clothes, to which she had agreed with a smile), while Harry waited for the witch to change in one of the many restrooms on the lower floor of the department store.  
>When he saw her, blood immediately rushed south, but he fought down his immediate reaction.<p>

_Nobody should be allowed to look that... that _edible_. It's just weird!_

Lavender didn't miss the look in his eyes, though she was quite confused by it. _I didn't cover up my scars without noticing, did I? Oh well... habit, I guess._

"Dinner?" Harry asked as she approached.  
>Lavender smiled widely and nodded, taking his arm as he led her out onto the busy shopping district street, which was still full of Christmas shoppers even late at night.<p>

"How about that place?" Harry gestured to an all-night cafe, but Lavender shook her head. "I don't really like the smell of coffee. Can we... can we maybe go to that diner place from before? I really liked their food."

With a wide grin, Harry gripped her arm a little tighter, turned them into an alleyway, and spun on the spot.

"Oh, hi you two! I didn't think you'd come back after the mix-up last time. The food was that good, huh?"  
>Harry grinned- he seemed to be doing that a lot lately- and nodded once, "It was, but the service wasn't bad either. I think I'll have a coke to drink. You know what you want, Lav?"<p>

The witch shrugged and asked for a coke as well before returning to studying the menu. After the waitress left, she put her menu down and looked at Harry carefully while he pretended to ignore her smoldering gaze.

_I don't get it, not at all. Why? Why is he doing this? _  
>She could only come to one conclusion. It fit, after all. It was the only reason that did. Inwardly, Lavender began to cry once again.<p>

**A/N2:** Whelp, there ya go. Don't forget to read and _review_, please. I've gotten a fair bit for this story so far (probably largely due to the HP genre, and hampered a bit by the pairing), but I have a lot of readers- around 2k hits the day I post a chapter- so I should be getting a lot more reviews than I am, don't you think? Please?

Anyway, next chapter is titled _Pieces fit together like so..._, and is due to be posted on the 14th.  
>Thanks again, R&amp;R for the love of Pythagoras!<p> 


	7. Chap 7 Pieces fit together like so

**A/N: **Hey, PRESENTS!  
>No particular reason for posting this chapter early, I just felt like it. There will still be the regular update (of Ch. 8) on Sunday barring me being in a coma or dead.<p>

This should be the last of the truly 'angsty' chapters, since both are well on the road to recovery now. Enjoy!

**Chap. 7** **Pieces fit together like so...**

Harry was having the most amazing dream. Ginny was _alive_. She was alive, and she was doing the most wonderful things to him, things he had forbidden himself from even dreaming about while she was alive. As her naked flesh slithered up his body, hardened nipplies scraping along his chest, his brown-eyed fox winked at him with a mischievous smirk. "You like that, Potter? Do you like it when I take you in my mouth?"  
>He nodded, not trusting his voice to be clear and without a high-pitched squeak.<br>"Tell me, Potter. Tell me how much you like it when I... go... down... on... you."  
>"I-" <em>Saved. Deeper than usual, even.<em> "I like it a lot. It feels like... _bloody sweet Merlin_, Gin, it feels so amazing. _You_ feel amazing.  
>Still with that devil's smile, Ginny snaked one hand down between them, making sure he saw her caress and pinch one nipple on the way by, before bringing it down to wrap around his painfully erect penis. She gave it a tug. "What about that, Potter? Do you like it when I jerk you off?"<br>Harry nodded again. "Gin..."  
>"Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it, Harry. I owe you everything."<p>

"... what? Gin?"

"Do you want me to give you a blow-job? A tittie-fuck? I'll... I'll even let you go all the way, if you want. It's the least I can do, after... after everything you've done."  
>"But... what? What have I done? I let you <em>die<em>, Gin! I don't deserve..."

But then Ginny, his precious Ginny, was gone and Harry was awake.

"Even if I'm not Ginny, I'll still do whatever you want, Harry."

_Great, now I'm hearing voices when I'm half awake. Not a good sign, Potter._  
>But no... it wasn't just a voice. There was breathing, and not just his own panting.<br>Silky smooth pressure moving up and down his turgid member.  
>Harry opened blurry eyes to see in the dim early-morning light a head of full, blonde hair, dressed in a silken nightie, and to connect the tingling, fiery touches on his erection to the woman who <em>wasn't Ginny<em> sitting on his bed.

Before he could stop himself, Harry had returned the favor of a few days before and thrown Lavender across the room in a blast of magic.

Her scream was what fully woke him.

"Lavender!"

(O)(O)(O)

He moved as quickly as he could up the walk towards the Castle he'd been avoiding for more than half a year, the one that had once been his first real home. His breathing was labored; he was carrying a girl his own age bridal-style at a near-run.  
>The muscles in his arms, back, and thighs screamed for release, but Harry had more important things to worry about.<p>

He had no sooner reached the great castle doors than they had flown open under his wandless command. "Poppy! Madame Pomfrey!"  
>Harry was half-way through the Great Hall before he realized that it was full of students eating breakfast, and that the school's primary healer was not in the Hall at the moment.<br>Professor Sprout, however, was. "Mr. Potter! Is that Miss Brown? Take her up to the Hospital Wing! I'll alert Poppy at once!"  
>Harry nodded and spun, still ignoring the many students, of whom he would only have recognized a few of the oldest anyway as more than passing aquaintences, and resumed his all-but run to the medical ward, his body screaming the whole way.<p>

When he reached the Wing, Madame Pomfrey threw open the doors just steps before he reached it and gestured Lavender to the nearest bed. "Well, Mr. Potter, I can't say I'm surprised to see you even after you've left school, but at least you aren't the one being treated this time. What happened to Miss Brown?"  
>"Acc- Accidental Magic," he forced out between pants before collapsing backwards onto the bed next to Lavender's. "She... well, I did it. She woke me up, and I was startled, and... I think she hit her head. I apparated here as soon as I realized she wasn't waking up. At least I got mostly dressed... but she moaned once just after I arrived at the gate. Can you help her?"<br>Madame Pomfrey resisted- with great effort- the urge to roll her eyes. What? Did he think, after she had treated him for serious injuries repeatedly through the last seven years, that she was incompetent?  
>"Of course I can, Mr. Potter. Just relax... I need to do an examination. She hit her head, you say? Did she strike anything in particular? The wall?"<br>"I... my wardrobe, I think."  
>"Hmm... I'll need to remove her clothing. Can you help me turn her over?"<br>"Her... what?"  
>Again, Poppy had the urge, but this time failed to supress it entirely, "Mr. Potter, are you an adult wizard, or not? Grow up! I need to check her spine for injuries, and that is made troublesome by clothing. Simply help me roll her over!"<p>

He rose from the bed and slipped his arms underneath her much as he had before and lifted while the healer adjusted the bed to allow Lavender's head to remain straight as she faced downward, before Harry gently put her down again, as Poppy guided the younger witch's head. "That's it, gently now..."  
>Harry fought as well to control his blush when one hand slid across Lavender's breast as he pulled back, but the healer didn't seem to notice. "Now, a quick diffindo if you please, and pull her pyjamas aside- I need unrestricted access."<p>

This time, she noticed his crimson color, but said nothing beyond a huff of irritation and maybe a grumble about 'boys never growing up'.  
>Harry was as careful as possible as he moved his wand down the back of Lavender's nightie, returning again to cut her bra before he realized he could simply undo the clasp. He struggled with it for a minute while Madame Pomfrey prepared an unguent, then moved down further.<br>He paused when he reached her panties, unsure if he should continue. The spine went down pretty far, right? So...

"No, Mr. Potter, that's quite far enough. Leave Miss Brown some modesty, won't you?"

He stuttered an apology and turned away, leaving the healer to her work.

"Yes, I see a few small fractures, nothing to worry about. Won't even need Skele-grow. One moment..."

A few muttered words later, she called for Harry again, "Now, Mr. Potter, I need to examine her head and neck, which is a little more difficult with the hair. I don't think she'd appreciate it if we removed it, so I need you to hold as much of it to the sides as possible, right down the middle- yes, just follow her part, just like that..."  
>Harry put forth a great deal of effort to remind himself that Lavender was in danger. Hurt, because of him and his own over-readiness to attack, rather than focus on the swatch of unblemished, smooth skin below him.<p>

He failed, and despite her concentration on healing her former student, Poppy Pomfrey didn't fail to notice the young wizard's slight increase in breathing or heart rate. Those, after all, were some of her greatest tools in diagnosis. Inwardly, she smiled. _Mr. Potter may just be on the way to healing at last._

Just as the healer finished and pulled up a blanket over Lavender, Professors Sprout and McGonnagall strode through the door, closing it behind them to prevent the several students outside from peering in to get a glimpse of their hero and the damsel in distress he had carried half way through the castle.

"Mr. Potter, what were you thinking of, dragging Miss Brown through the entrance hall, injured, and dressed in her night things?"

Harry winced at the headmisstress' tone, but couldn't deny her the truth, "I wasn't thinking, okay? I hurt her, Professor. I told her I'd help her, but I hurt her. And I wasn't thinking. I just knew I couldn't take her to St. Mungo's. Not after... after before."

The elderly Professor shared a glance with both of the older witches as her expression softened. "Potter... Harry. I understand your concern, but _please_, if the situation should arise again... don't look for Poppy in the Great Hall, hmm? There are wards on the door that alert her to people entering when she isn't here. She would have come running."

Professor Sprout shook Harry's hand with a wide, kind smile and returned to the Great Hall, shooing the students in the hallway off as she passed.  
>After the noise outside had quieted down, McGonagall spoke again, "What happened?"<p>

Harry shrugged, "Accidental Magic. She woke me up, and I threw her across the room before I was really even awake."

The casual tone didn't fool either of the older witches. They both knew Harry Potter far better than that.  
>The Headmistress strode around Lavender's bed and settled herself beside Harry, taking his hand in her wizened one before speaking, "Mr- Harry... we've been worried about you. No one has really heard from you in months, aside from Miss- Hermione. And she's told me several disturbing things lately."<p>

Harry scowled. "Like what? Spreading stories about how I'm sleeping around? How I'm disgracing Ginny's memory?"  
>McGonagall recoiled in surprise at the venom, but didn't deny the words. "I... I suppose it's something like that. I take it, then, that they are <em>only<em> stories?"

Harry nodded bitterly. "I told both Hermione and Ron that, but neither of them listened. They've turned into... well, everyone else."  
>"What do you mean?" she asked.<br>While Poppy continued to work past the growing wetness in her eyes, Harry related to them both how he'd come across Lavender begging in Muggle London, unwilling or unable to help herself with magic, how he'd taken her to St. Mungos, had her released into his care when it became obvious how she was being treated, and then took her in. How he'd tried to help her in Diagon Alley, and failed so horribly that he had taken her to a Muggle store to buy the things any human needed for a comfortable life, because no one would serve someone _tainted_ in Diagon Alley.

Tears had fallen from both of the older witch's faces by the time he'd told them the whole story, only glossing over Lavender's confession of the things she'd done to survive, and Ron and Hermione's reactions, which they seemed to have an idea of anyway.

"Well, Mr. Potter... I hope you can believe me when I say that _some_ of Wizardkind agrees with you, not those who would treat Miss Brown like that for no reason at all," McGonagall said after he was done, "In fact, I can personally assure you that I would _never_ turn down a student that wanted to learn. If Albus taught me anything about life, it was that all beings are worth their space by nature, if not by choice. And while I never agreed with a number of Miss Brown's choices, she is and has been a Gryffindor in every way that matters."  
>Harry nodded solemnly and closed his eyes to keep from staring at Lavender's bare back, and the hint of breast he could see past her arm. <em>No distractions. McGonagall's smart. She'll have some advice if I ask. And Madame Pomfrey always looks out for the student's best interests, so...<em>

"I think I'm going to leave the Wizarding World."

You could have heard a bowtruckle breath for the next thirty seconds.

"Mr. Potter!"  
>He shook his head to forestall any more protests, "I can't stand the hatred any more, Professor. I just... I just want peace and quiet, that's all. In the Muggle world, I can get that. I can't get it here. Too many people know me. On top of that, Lavender needs someone to help her out right now, and I have nothing better to do. Since people treat her so poorly, I've asked her to come with me. She's willing to try it."<p>

McGonagall sniffed, then nodded. "I believe I understand. If that is your decision, I will stand by it, Harry. But please know, as long as I am Headmistress, like Albus before me, you will always have a home here if you wish it."  
>"Thanks, Professor."<p>

With another mournful look at Poppy, the old Professor stood, placed a hand on Harry's shoulder for a moment, then swept from the room.

A few minutes later, the healer asked, "I was under the impression you had wanted to be an Auror. Is that... no longer the case?"  
>Harry didn't know how to answer, so he shrugged. "I don't really know, I guess. I mean, I want to be... but I don't think I want to do it here. Maybe in the States. I've heard they're a bit more progressive there. Equal rights might actually mean something. Or maybe I'll just stay here and use magic to help the Muggles that can't solve their problems their way where I can. Or maybe I'll just do nothing. It's not like I have to worry about money."<br>Poppy shook her head and settled next to him where McGonagall had been before, though she only folded her hands in her lap around her wand. "She'll be all right in a little while. I'm letting her rest to repair the minor damage to her brain, but it won't take long."

"Brain? Is she-"

"No issues at all, Mr- Harry. She'll be fine, as I said. But... there's something you aren't telling me. What really happened?"

He flushed, but the Healer had always been able to cow him with a glance, and apparently being an adult changed nothing.

In the end, he told her everything about Lavender's illicit activities, and that morning, and why he'd reacted so strongly. He even told her about his dream.

"Well, I suppose it's no real surprise, then. You and Miss Weasley were very close. Then to have such a dream and wake to find it's real but with another woman... your reaction might even be called natural."

Harry didn't know what to say. He could detect no judgment, no anger, no negative emotion of any kind in her voice.  
>"Still... your reactions and expressions when you told me this story tell me that you're somewhat behind the natural education of a young man these days, Mr. Potter."<p>

His expression must have been easy to read, or at least his suddenly stiff posture.  
>"Now, now, relax, Mr. Potter. I'm a Healer, remember? I deal with this sort of thing all the time. If you have questions, there's probably no one in the castle better suited to answer them than me."<p>

"Er, thanks, but... I think I'm okay."

Poppy shrugged, _Swish, Flick, and uuuup you go!_ "Well, if not me, then perhaps Miss Brown will be willing to educate you. I'm sure your little accident hasn't put her off you completely."

While Harry stammered denial after denial, Poppy Pomfrey stood and strode into her office whistling a jaunty tune.

(O)(O)(O)

"H- Harry?"  
>"Lavender? You all right?"<p>

"I... I feel a little woozy. What happened?"

"I... um, you startled me, and I hit you with a bit of accidental magic. We're in Hogwarts, the Hospital Wing."

"So Madame Pomfrey checked me out?"  
>He nodded, forgetting that she couldn't see him for a moment. "Er, yeah. She said you were okay. You want me to go get her to make sure?"<p>

Lavender struggled to shake her head for a moment, "No, no... I just want to lay here a minute. Why can't I move my head?"

"You hit my wardrobe head-first. She found some spinal damage, so she secured you, I guess. She said it wasn't bad, and would only take a minute to fix, so she'll probably take the spell off when she comes back in."

"'Kay."  
>Silence returned to the hospital wing for a few seconds.<p>

"Harry?"  
>"Hm?"<br>"Why is my back drafty?"

"Er... well... That is... I... er, Madame Pomfrey cut your night shirt open to, er, examine your back."  
>"Ah. Sor... I'm sorry, Harry."<p>

"Sorry? For what?"  
>She tried again to lift her head, but failed, "For... for doing <em>that<em>. I just thought... I thought that's what you wanted."

"I- well I did, but- wait, I mean- _Oh bloody hell._"

Lavender snorted, "Hell of a way to make a girl feel appreciated, Harry. Wine her, dine her, take her on a huge shopping trip, show her you want to buy her the world, and then when she tries give you what you paid for..."

"... what?" he growled.

She tried again, but made no progress. With a sigh, she replied, "I was giving you what you paid for. At least, I was trying to."

Rage boiled to the surface within Harry, but again, it was not directed at Lavender. It was a formless thing, directed more at the world that had perverted the witch's view of the world so. "I am not buying you things, giving you a place to stay, and being your friend for- for _sex_, Lavender, no matter how much you think so."

She snorted derisively, "You said yourself that you wanted it."

Harry cringed visibly, but was grateful she couldn't possibly see more than his trainers, "Yes, I did. But those are two completely separate things. I... hell, how do I say this..."

Madame Pomfrey bustled out of her office, "The truth always helps, Mr. Potter. Now, Miss Brown, hold still for a moment while I double check my work. Yes, that's it..."

A few wand movements later, Lavender was trying to rise again, but the Healer pushed her back donw. "One moment, Miss Brown. Mr. Potter, if you wouldn't mind going outside for a minute while she gets dressed... or perhaps you can fetch her some clothing of her own?"  
>"Oh, yeah... Kreacher!"<p>

The elf, as usual, appeared with a pop, though there was a slight delay. "Master called for Kreacher?"

Harry nodded, "Thanks for coming, Kreacher. Can you get some clothes for Lavender? Something she'll like?"  
>"Of course, Master. Kreacher will return soon."<p>

It took a whole ten seconds for the elf to return with a bundle of neatly folded clothing, the unmentionables tactfully in the middle to save both Lavender and Harry some embarassment. "Will there be any thing else, Master?"  
>"No, Kreacher. Thanks again."<br>The elf disapparated with a pop, and Harry walked outside, his mind still churning furiously. He knew, knew with the same instincts that had kept him alive in more battles than he wanted to recall, that Lavender would not forget that he had been about to tell her something she had asked to hear. Confirmation. Admission. Confession. All of them applied equally. But how could he say it?  
>It was bad enough admitting such things to Ginny. But Lavender... she had been forced to sell herself. How could he admit that he felt even similar to the pigs who had paid for her body?<p>

When Poppy opened the door to call him back in, Harry still had no answer.

**A/N2:** So? What did you think? Let me know in a review please!

Next chapter (8 again) is titled: _One step after another_, and will again be posted on Sunday as usual.


	8. Chap 8 One step after another

**Chap. 8 One step after another**

When the pair walked out of the Hospital Wing and moved through the quiet halls as quickly as possible- Harry had confirmed that classes were in session today, though the school would be mostly empty tomorrow for the holidays- Lavender had given no sign that she still remembered his unwitting admission.  
>He was sure that the kettle was just approaching boil, though, and that before too long she'd blow up and leave. <em>But it's her choice, isn't it? Face it, Potter, you mucked it up, and because of you, she'll be out on the street again because she won't want to be around you any more. Just like everyone else in your life.<em>  
>But Harry refused to wallow in bitterness, not any longer. He'd had quite enough of that in his life already, thank you very much.<br>"Listen, Lavender... can you wait at Grimmauld for a bit? There's some business I have to take care of at Gringotts before we leave, but it probably won't be any fun for you..."

Fortunately, the half-ruse seemed to be effective, because Lavender just nodded with a wane smile. "Apparate me?"  
>"Sure," he said, and then with a pop, twisted into the darkness.<p>

(O)(O)(O)

_Hell... I'm so gonna get it when I get back home. Knowing how much Lavender likes to talk, she'll probably have Kreacher ready to kill me for hurting her, or something. Hopefully my surprise will keep her from hexing my bits off... hopefully..._

"Mr. Potter, Griphook will see you now."  
>Harry nodded politely to the unfamiliar Goblin, standing to follow him into the depths of the Wizarding Bank.<br>It took only a few minutes to reach Griphook's new office, apparently he wasn't yet worthy of a deeper one, though the room was rather spacious once Harry stepped inside. "Ah, Mr. Potter," the Goblin Harry knew best said by way of greeting, "An honor, as always. What may I do for you today?"

Harry glanced around before seating himself, confirming his exits mostly due to long experience, but also because the look on Griphook's face seemed more than just a little predatory. _Nah, I'm just imagining things... they got the Sword of Gryffindor, kind of... and Neville gave it back anyway, so... that can't be it. They seemed fine with me before after I bribed them, and he just got a big promotion, so... why does he seem so hungry?_

"Er, yes, well... I actually have two matters I need to attend do. The first, well... I'd like to set up a fund, like a trust."  
>"To what purpose, Mr. Potter?"<p>

Harry gave a half-hearted shrug. His idea seemed to have a lot less merit outside of Grimmauld place, especially in the light of day. "Er... to forward the arts?"  
>Griphook's expression tightened a little. "The arts? You seem less than sure, Mr. Potter, if I might be so bold. What made you decide that?"<p>

Harry shrugged again, coloring slightly in memory, "Well... I have a friend who likes to draw. She's pretty good, but hasn't had much training, I guess. She wants to design fashion, you know, like new clothes and robes and things. But she doesn't have any money, so..."  
>The Goblin was almost motionless, prompting Harry to continue, "Well, I was thinking I could set up this fund to help pay for supplies and things so witches and wizards all over could get some training and practice and stuff."<p>

"I see," the shorter creature replied, "And what is art to you, Mr. Potter?"

He shrugged again, seeming even less sure of himself than before, "Well... pictures, I suppose, and music, and... and fashion, I guess, sculpture, architecture... even gardening, I guess. Anything that makes the world a better place could be called art, couldn't it?"  
>The Goblin gave a wide, sharp-toothed smile, "So you wish to set up a trust fund for the purpose of helping pay for wizardkind all across the country to take up the arts in general?"<p>

Unsure exactly, but thinking the Goblin had gotten general idea at least, Harry nodded.  
>"And how much would you be willing to put into this trust fund?"<p>

"I don't know... maybe twenty million galleons?"

Griphook's eyes widened for a moment before he controlled himself, "That is a considerable amount, Mr. Potter. I take it this is a rather important desire of yours?"  
>Harry nodded, for the first time in the meeting entirely sure of the answer, "Yes. I mean... humans- really, any being- communicates through symbols, right? What is art, if not symbolism? So... at least, I think, if wizardkind, the Goblins, Centaurs, Merpeople, and everyone else ever hopes to get along... well, it has to start somewhere. Art is universal, or so I think, so... well, it sounded good to me, anyway."<p>

Griphook nodded, "It sounds rather idealistic to me, but I suppose the idea has merit. It is worth a try, anyway. For many long years wizardkind has thought themselves superior to every other race, in their folly. Perhaps a mutual exchange of ideas through art is indeed a worthy effort to begin a more lasting congress."  
>Harry was taken aback. In the more than month he'd spent in close proximity to Griphook in Shell Cottage, the bloodthirsty Goblin had never spoken so eloquently. Now, though, he seemed to do it without effort, as if he'd been bred to it. But Harry had more important things on his mind. "So... so we can do it?"<br>Griphook nodded again, "I'll have the paperwork finalized by this afternoon. Shall I send it by owl, or will you be able to make a return trip?"

"Um, owl, I think. I'm going to be kind of busy this afternoon. I'm moving houses, you see."  
>"Ah. Then owl it is. Where should I direct it when I send it off?"<p>

"Er, I don't remember the exact address. It's on Knightsbridge, just south of Hyde Park in Muggle London."

"Very well, I will use an owl capable of finding you based off that information. Now... is there anything else, Mr. Potter?"

"Well... I don't really know how to tell you, and it's nothing against the Goblins- you've always treated me well, really- but I... I want to leave the Wizarding world, at least for a while. That's why I bought the place in central London. I just want to... to disappear for a while, you know? So I was thinking I should move some money over to a Muggle bank."

"That is easily accomplished. Goblinkind simply uses human emissaries such as Mrs. Weasley neé Delacour to make contact with the Muggle institutions and complete the transactions. If you would like, I can have her contact you personally with your account information as early as tomorrow at noon."  
>"That sounds great. I haven't seen Fleur in a while, so... it'll be nice to catch up, I guess. Er, I know you've heard about me creating my will a few days back?"<br>Griphook nodded.

"Well, I kind of need to change it again. When would be a good time to do that? Is it you I need to meet with, or with someone else?"

The Goblin replied, "I am able to handle whatever you need, Mr. Potter. I have the time now, if you wish to notify me of any changes. I can work on the actual wording later as well."  
>"Okay. Well, I left almost everything to Teddy- Theodore- Lupin. But now I want to change it so he gets half. Half of the Wizarding stock, half of the Muggle stock, half of the properties, half of the funds. It's still a lot, so he should be okay if something happens to me and his grandmother."<p>

The Goblin nodded with blank eyes, clearly not realizing who Teddy was to Harry. "And the remainder?"  
>"Well..." Harry's meeting with Griphook took only a few minutes once he'd stirred up the nerve to finish the sentence; the Goblin took in the news of Harry's plan with the same blank acceptance that he'd taken the information about Teddy.<p>

_And I can't forget the Weasleys and Hermione, no matter how they are now... we've been through too much to pretend there's... that there wasn't anything between us._

In the end, Harry walked out quite satisfied. Even if something happened to him, both his Godson and friends would be taken care of, and his fund would be active by the next school year. In addition, about a quarter of Harry's liquid assets- about two hundred million pounds- was set to be transferred to a few key banks in London, whose account information would be delivered by Fleur the next day.

"Harry? Harry, is that you?"

The wizard's musings were ended by a very familiar voice as he moved through the Leaky Cauldron toward Muggle London. "Nev? Hey, Neville!"

"Wow, you look... well, kind of terrible, but better than you did last time I saw you. How're you doing, Harry?"  
>Grinning widely, Harry examined his old friend as well, "Better, honestly. You don't look too bad yourself. Finished filling out, you sure aren't the awkard, clumsy, pudgy kid you were in first year any more."<br>Neville laughed a little, pulling Harry to a booth on the side of the Leaky's common room, "Here, sit down and have lunch with me and Hannah. You aren't busy, are you?"  
>"Well, no, not really, but... well, I can have tea I guess. I kind of have plans for lunch later."<p>

"Hi Harry," the blonde witch said, putting out her hand as he sat, "how're you?"

He shrugged while waiting for Neville to sit- next to Hannah, he noticed- before sliding in across from them. "I've been all right. Better lately."

Neville nodded, "I've heard some weird rumors. That have anything to do with why you're feeling better?"  
>Harry turned scarlet while glaring at Neville. <em>You? Of all people, Neville, you're the one I least expected to behave like that because of rumors. I'm... I'm really disappointed, Nev...<em>  
>But the other black-haired wizard was grinning, "I heard it from Lee Jordan that you've been seen in the company of one Lavender Brown a bit, and that she's... well, doing better than she has been too. You must be good for each other, if she's had this kind of effect on you already."<p>

"Er- what?"

Hannah giggled, blushing alongside Neville, "Oh, Harry, don't you see? Neville's, well, he's being a prat, but you've got this... this _look_. You had it in sixth year for a while, but no one's seen it for a while. Until now, anyway."  
>Harry made to stand up in anger, but Neville's calm hand on his arm made him pause, "Come on, Harry, I'm not trying to be a berk. I really think it's great. Lavender needs a good bloke, and you need a good girl, that's it. I'm happy for you, honest."<p>

Only slightly mollified, Harry sat back down heavily, "We're not dating, if that's what you mean."  
>He saw Neville and Hannah glance at each other, but missed the witch mouthing "yet" to the wizard, who smirked and nodded.<p>

They talked for a long time, much longer than Harry had anticipated. He found it cathartic, in a way he never would have expected, to finally have a chance to tell Neville everything. Every detail of the story he could remember. He was dreading one aspect more than the rest, though. And that was telling him-

"Nev!" Hannah gasped a few seconds after he'd finished with Voldemort's defeat, "The Prophecy... as the seventh month dies. Your parents- it could have been _you_!"

Neville froze for a heartbeat, then two, but then shrugged. "It could have. But it wasn't. I'm glad, too, sorry Harry, but it's true. I don't think I'd have been able to do it. But you did, so..."

Harry disagreed, "You kept the DA going without me, Hermione, or Ron. You killed Nagini. You stood up right in Voldemort's face and mocked him. You... you would have been fine, I think."

Neville blushed deep scarlet while Hannah shot him another adoring look.  
>"Look, guys, it's been really great talking to you both, but I need to go. I think I've intruded on your date enough as it is."<p>

Both of them blushed, but neither denied it, instead choosing to wish Harry the best and hope that he stayed in touch.

_You know, I think I might. That's six people today, McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, Professor Sprout, Griphook, and Neville and Hannah who seem quite all right. Maybe I'll maintain a little contact with the Wizarding World after all._

(O)(O)(O)

"Well, that's the last of it," Harry exhaled as he flopped down onto the couch next to Lavender. The sun had gone down hours before, but as the witch and wizard had wanted to unpack their personal belongings- as the apartment was furnished, the left the majority to Grimmauld Place in case Andromeda Tonks or Teddy wanted to visit it for some reason- without Kreacher's aid, it had been a time consuming and exhausting task.  
>"Are you <em>really<em> sure about this, Harry?"  
>He sighed, "Yes, Lavender, I am. Why's it so hard to understand?"<p>

"Well..."

When she was silent for a while, he sat up straight to look at her. The blonde's eyes were a little moist, but she was not crying, for which he was grateful. "Lavender?"

The witch shrugged for no reason he could see, but swallowed twice before responding, "I just don't get it. You've said yourself, over and over, that you're doing it just because you can and because you want to be nice, but... I want to believe you, but I can't seem to wrap my mind around it."

Harry closed his eyes and leaned back into the soft cushions of the round couch, inhaling and exhaling several times before answering. "You don't need a reason to help people. At least, I don't. I do it just because it's what should be done."

Lavender shook her head again, "I still don't get it, but I guess I should just accept that it's true until I do, right? I mean, you've never lied to me before, so..."

"I guess," he replied, but started to snore before saying anything more.

With a sad smile, Lavender watched him for more than an hour as the old clock he'd brought from Grimmauld Place- one of the few pieces of furnishings he'd liked, a towering timepiece that 'had _not_ tried to kill anyone in his recollection' from the drawing room- ticked away in the distant corner, and the traffic hummed on the street below.

"Damn it, Harry Potter," she whispered to herself, "Why do you have to make it so difficult to leave you behind?"

There were still tears glistening in her eyes when she stood softly and bent low to press her lips to his forehead, before padding into her bedroom and shutting the door.

(O)(O)(O)

"I thought you could take lessons here. It's a pretty good studio, I guess. Mrs. Bentley recommended it, anyway, and since it's right downstairs, you wouldn't have to risk getting lost out there."

Lavender's eyes were wide as she surveyed the studio where artists of several levels of skill worked on canvas, paper, even stone and steel in several distinct sections of the building.

"Harry, it's... it's... I never even imagined so many artists existed!"  
>He chuckled, "This is just a small part of London, which is a <em>very<em> small part of the Muggle world, Lav. There's millions of artists out there to share ideas with, if you look."

As she moved ahead of him to wander through the various styles of art being created and lessons being offered (at all hours of the day), Harry was undergoing the same internal debate he'd been having for days.

_She's happy. You made her happy, Potter. She won't hate you if you just tell her._

_... but she might. If you tell her you like her, that you think she's pretty, she might hate you._

_Lavender's not like that. She doesn't judge people based on others' opinions._

_... but she has. Fifth year. You remember. Hermione had to tell her off._

_Yes, but as Hermione's proven she's capable of the same thing, what difference does that make? She's still human._

_... but Lavender isn't. Not completely, anyway. Moony said the change makes tempers shorter, and it would likely have an effect on Bill, too. That means it would on Lavender._

_What difference does that make? I have a temper, too. Besides, she makes me feel... well, _feel_. So why shouldn't I do what I can to make her stay?_

_... because making her stay makes you like _them_, that's why._

_But I'm not. I don't mean force her, and you know it, Potter. I want her to choose to stay. Stay with me._

_... want her to shag you. And then what?_

_Well... yes. I guess I have to admit that, don't I? But it's the question that's important. I still want her to stay. I want her to smile, all the time. I want to hear her laugh like she used to in school, that ditsy laugh I used to hate. I want her to ramble about fashion, and divination, and makeup, and... I want her to be whole again._

This time, Harry's darker side had no response.

As she wandered back toward him, Harry gave Lavender a smile.  
>"Hey, Lav... what do you think about that big screen?"<br>She gave him an odd look, "The big black glass thing?"  
>Harry nodded, "Do you know what it is?"<br>She shook her head, "I don't know anything about Muggle stuff, you know that. What's it for, anyway?"

Harry only smiled before taking her hand, "Well, there's a Muggle tradition called Movie Night that I've never been able to do before. I think you'll enjoy it...

(O)(O)(O)

Lavender screamed and threw herself at Harry, who laughed and wrapped one arm as casually as he could around her. The slimy, tentacled monster wasn't nearly as large as the Giant Squid, and much less scary than a dementor or a Dark Lord. The zipper at the back of the rubber costume didn't help, but Harry thought overall that of the six movies they'd watched since that evening- it was now nearing four in the morning- the B-list horror was the best. Not because of the movie, of course, but because of Lavender's reaction.

It had been a long time since he'd felt soft flesh pressing up against him like that, and he kind of liked it.

After the credits rolled, Harry looked over to see Lavender's eyes wide with terror and heard her panting. "... you up for one more? I think you'll just have nightmares if you try to sleep now."

Lavender nodded woodenly, and stood with Harry, walked across the inset floor clutching his arm tightly with both hands, and didn't let go even when he struggled to change the rented DVDs one-handed. "This one's a romantic comedy, you'll probably like it."  
>She only nodded again, and still didn't let go when he sat back down. Instead, she pressed herself against him even harder, worming underneath his arm again to rest her head against his chest after he'd leaned back, pulling her legs up to rest her knees on his lap.<p>

Before the movie's first three scenes were over, Lavender's head had drooped onto his chest completely, and Harry fumbled around for the remote before clicking both machines off with a minute's search for the proper buttons.

"Lavender? You want to head to bed?"

Her only response was a slight hitch in breathing, so Harry did the gallant thing and leaned his head back, allowing the long-postponed sleep to wash over him as well.

(O)(O)(O)

Harry awoke feeling more refreshed than he could have imagined. Judging by the unfamiliar shadows and beams of light coming from the large windows, it was sometime before noon, but not by much. The Christmas shoppers were out in full force, talking and laughing below.  
>During the night, he had sprawled out on the couch, his back following it's curve as he lay half on his side, half on his back.<br>Next to and on top of him, Lavender was awkwardly positioned as well, one of her legs high between his own, one arm behind and below his neck, and the other resting on his chest next to her face. Her breath tickled his chin and throat, but the witch's breathing was still slow and deep, so once again, he decided not to disturb her.

More than an hour later, as his stomach grumbled for the fifth time, she finally stirred. She froze after the first few moments, but then relaxed a little. "Harry?"

"Hm?"

His response prompted her to extricate herself as quickly as possible once she knew she wouldn't wake him. She was saved from falling on her behind by Harry's hand snaking around her and pulling her back to lay half on top of him again.  
>"Warm. Stay."<p>

She giggled, "But Harry, your stomach says we should get up."

"Screw stomach. Comfortable."

With a hand in front of her mouth, Lavender giggled again. "What time is it, anyway?"  
>He picked up his watch, glad his glasses had somehow stayed on his head all night. "One. I guess we can get up..."<p>

As she moved at a more sedate pace to get off of him, Harry watched her, his resolve solidifying into iron as she did so. Now, he only had to find the time to tell her...

He had showered and dressed before Lavender had decided what to wear, so the bathroom was already steamy when she stepped in. "You know, Potter, there's a window in here to let the steam out..."  
>He called back, "Yeah, but it's cold outside. You can open it if you want, I just thought I'd give you the choice."<br>She didn't reply aside from a screech as she felt the cold air on her skin before slamming the small window shut again.  
>Harry chuckled and moved into the kitchen. <em>Let's see... eggs, sausage, waffles. That sounds good...<em>

A while later, they were seated across from each other, Lavender digging in with gusto, after telling him his cooking was quite as good as Kreacher's, maybe better than the Hogwarts Elves', while he ate slowly and watched her.

_As soon as she's done with breakfast, I'll tell her. And let her make the choice._  
>But Harry was not prepared for Lavender's sneak attack.<p>

She dropped her fork after swallowing a bite half-way through her waffle and asked, "So, Harry, when you said you 'wanted it'. What exactly did you mean by that?"

Harry's orange juice was, fortunately, aimed back into his glass as he sprayed, making Lavender giggle while he wiped off his face with a napkin and shot her a glare.

_Damn it... I guess my time's up. Face the music, Potter. What's a Lavender Brown compared to the most powerful Dark Lord in... well, ever?_

_..._

_..._

_Damned scary, that's what she is._

"Er, well, it's just..."

Lavender folded her hands under her chin and leaned forward slightly, eyes sparkling with mischief, "It's just what, Harry?"

He gulped.

"Well... I kind of thought, maybe... we could, I don't know... maybe... be 'together'? At least try it out?"

Lavender's eyes widened and she sat back quickly. "Like... like dating?"

Harry nodded, glad she had gotten the hint so quickly.

"I... I thought you implied pretty strongly that you didn't want me that way, Harry. I mean, you said you did, I guess, but you also threw me across the room to make me stop."

Harry blushed further, very unhappy that he'd have to explain in detail. "Well... I _do_ want to. I mean, you're gorgeous, Lavender, but... but I don't want to be like everyone else. You aren't just a body to use and throw away, not to me. That's why I want... why I want to take it slow. Naturally. I don't want you to climb into my bed and... do... _stuff_. Not until it's natural. Sex doesn't make a relationship. It's a relationship that turns sex into making love. And... I want to try that. The relationship, I mean. With- with you."

Lavender's eyes glistened. "That... that might be the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."  
>Which is why Harry was quite surprised when Lavender burst into sobs again and fled the kitchen area back into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.<p> 


	9. Chap 9 Resolution

**A/N: **First, sorry about the double-alert. I forgot to edit the A/N's to the current situation... I already had the chapters uploaded, you see.

Anyway, sorry about the late post- I totally spaced it. I was even up till 3 AM last night and could have done it then, but spaced it then too. Sorry. :P

Unfortunately, I will NOT be posting the last chapter early to make up for it this time. Call it a birthday wish for a frequent reviewer, he wants the last chapter and epilogue posted for his birthday, and that's what he's getting next week. :)

As the title suggests, this is when things start moving toward their final states for real. That being said, there is most definitely 'adult stuff' going on in this chapter. It's as graphic as it needs to be, while not being gratuitous. This is one of those "it's not smut, it's telling a story with artistic license" things. The nudity and behavior IS the story, in this case, for reasons that should become clear as you read. However... if it's not something legal for you to read, or that you aren't comfortable with, you shouldn't be reading an M-rated story anyway, especially not one by me. There's plenty of good T-and-lower fics out there to read. I've even written one or two. :)  
>Enjoy!<p>

**Chap. 9 Resolution**

"You know, Lavender, that's really not good for my self esteem."

His attempt at humor through her bedroom door fell on deaf ears, judging by the effect it had on her quiet sobs.

"Come on, Lavender... can you at least help me understand? I'm a little confused."

The continued crying convinced Harry to excercise his perogative as the flat's owner and open the door. Fortunately, she hadn't locked it, since he'd told her he would never enter if it was locked. She had her right to privacy, the same as him.

The young woman was face-down on her bed, arms around her head to hide her face, as if the mass of wavy blonde hair wasn't enough. Slowly, Harry walked across the room, only sparsely furnished and decorated, with boxes still lying around, to sit next to her on the bed. He put an arm on the small of her back and started moving it in circles softly. "Lav... please tell me what's wrong? I thought... I thought you would be happy. Did... did I scare you off? Could you tell I've been perving on you, and it frightened you? 'cause I really didn't mean to, I just can't help it. If you don't want to try dating, that's fine. I'll just get used to cold showers, and we can stay friends. All right?"

This time, a half-hearted giggle broke through the sobs, but she refused to lift her head to look at him as she replied, "Why? Virtue and gallantry aside, why me? What makes me so special that Harry _bleeding_ Potter is willing to go so far out of the way to make me feel special?"

Harry blinked. "That's it? That's all that's bothering you? 'cause that's easy to answer."

Lavender jerked upward on her arms to glare at him over her shoulder, face streaked with tears still, "Don't lie to me, Potter. You might think Trelawney was an old fraud, but I learned a lot about reading things- especially people- from her."  
>This time, the wizard fround. "I'm not lying, and Trelawney <em>is<em> an old fraud... who's given at least two valid prophecies."

Lavender snorted, "You don't have to lie to make me feel better."

Harry thought for a few moments about how he could convince her until a flash of inspiration gave him a plan, if a risky one. "Lavender... do you trust me?"

"... I guess."

"Like, really trust me? Would you jump off a cliff without a wand if I told you it was safe?"  
>She looked back at him like he was crazy. "Why in the hell would I do that?"<br>"Well, say there was a dementor coming after you and you were trapped. If I said it was safe, that I'd keep you from getting hurt, would you do it?"

"Why wouldn't you just summon your Patronus?"  
>Eyes rolling, Harry answered, "Okay, so I don't have my wand either, all right? Just... would you do it?"<p>

Hesitantly, she nodded.  
>"Okay, then come here, into the bathroom."<p>

Reluctantly, wiping her face on her long sleeves, Lavender followed.

He pulled her to stand in front of the floor-length mirror and stood directly behind her, before reaching over to shut the door. They were the only ones in the apartment, but he was sure it would make the witch more comfortable with his plan.  
>"Okay, so... I swear, I swear on my magic, that I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do while I'm in here with you today, okay? If you're getting uncomfortable, even a little, just tell me and I'll stop. I swear it, okay?"<p>

Lavender frowned, but nodded, "Okay..."

_Thank you, Ginny, for teaching me this lesson._ He finished by giving a silent prayer for her help in this. He knew, after all, that she would understand and want him to be happy.

First, he reached up to pull Lavender's blonde hair behind her, exposing her neck completely.  
>"What do you see?" he asked, gesturing toward the witch in the mirror.<br>Lavender frowned. "My scars."

Harry nodded, "Okay, that makes sense. And I think we found the problem, right there. That was fast!"  
>His attempt at levity went unappreciated. "Harry, I know I'm ugly, you don't have to point it out to me."<p>

Now his expression mirrored her own, "No... no you aren't. You see your scars, but I see waves and waves of lucious golden hair. I see pert, pink lips that have a lovely shade even without makeup. I see bright, blue eyes that look like a summer sky. I see a little nose that, even when I was a titchy first-year made me want to poke it and say 'beep!'. I see twenty-two tiny little freckles scattered across your nose and cheeks. Ginny had twenty-one. I counted."

Lavender snorted, "When did you count _my_ freckles, Potter?"  
>He shrugged, "Last night, while you were falling asleep. Anyway, I also see a graceful, feminine jaw, dimples that only show up when you smile and laugh, and ears that just peek out from your hair enough to show any earrings you're wearing. I see a slender neck with a distinctive feature, and..."<br>Harry paused, gulped, and continued in a whisper, "Remember, stop me if you want to. I won't resist."  
>He slid his arms down hers, "I see two arms that fought, and killed, to defend herself, her friends, and me. Her home away from home. I see strength there, more than in almost anyone I've ever met, even if it usually hides away. I see hands that can create dresses, outfits, and drawings of such skill and beauty that they take my breath away- like you do.<br>_And here's the plunge..._ Now his arms slid underneath hers to circle around her arms, hands moving back up to her neck, "I see collarbones that make me want to nibble on them, shoulders I want to massage every time you're stressed. I see- I see breasts that- that-"

He choked when she forced a smile past the tears streaming down her face, "A little shy, Harry?"  
>Harry nodded, and found the remnants of his Gryffindor Courage. "That I want to taste, to hold on to, all the fucking time."<br>"Show me," she said brazenly.  
>With another last gulp, he obeyed, sliding his hands over the curve of each, dipping the tips of his longest fingers into the small amount of cleavage she allowed, and then brushed over quickly-hardening nipples, and ended with his arms crossed around her ribs, hands open as he cupped them both from the bottom.<p>

"That's just... just a little of it."  
>"Go on then," she said quietly.<br>He nodded, and slid his hands downward across her belly to her waist as he spoke, "A belly that shows me you take care of yourself, because I can feel the muscle but can't see it under the smooth skin, a waist I can fit one arm around, and hips that flare so... _god_, Lavender, I can't keep going. You're just so... _so_ beautiful. How can you not see it?"

She shook her head, but didn't move as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her in a little. "Because... because I'm _flawed_, Harry. Let me show you."

She stepped away and unbuttoned the length of her shirt, slipping out of it without sparing Harry a glance.  
>He was not quite frozen, his eyes tracked every movement as his breathing continued to increase in pace, but she stepped back in front of him without her shirt, wearing only her pants and a white bra with what he thought might have been strawberries speckled over it. She moved her hands up to trace the scar across her face, and then across her neck, continuing across her breast until it ended.<br>Harry thought it must have taken a medical miracle for Madam Pomfrey to keep that breast mostly intact, given the angle of Greyback's strike. But aside from the single slightly-raised white (red when she was angry) line, the curve was unmarred in any way.

"Harry... I see taint. I see shadows on my skin because of that monster. It's in my blood, and everyone I know except you sees it. I may as well be a beast. I sure look like one."

Unable to help himself, Harry's left arm slid up underneath her breasts again and pulled her close to his chest, while his right followed the path hers had done a minute earlier. "I don't see any shadows there. I see a line that connects your heart to your mind, a pure white line. I see grace, and beauty, and wisdom, and a light-heartedness that's buried deep, but that I, and the whole world, needs to see- _wants_ to see."  
>She shook her head, but he didn't let her interrupt, "You showed me yours... it's only fair that I show you mine."<p>

He stepped back against the sink and lifted his t-shirt over his head. Moving to stand beside Lavender, she gasped at the black webbing across his chest. "I know you've noticed the part on my neck, it's not like I keep it a secret. No one except Ron, Hermione, and Madame Pomfrey have seen the whole thing outside of St. Mungo's, though. It's... it's the residue of Moldyshort's second Killing Curse. It's fading, but it'll never go away. I'm scarred, just like you."

Eyes almost dry from the shock of it, Lavender murmured, "No, you're still totally gorgeous, Harry... that's the symbol of a hero, right there. Can... can I touch it?"

Voice heavy with meaning, Harry replied, "You can touch it all you want. It, like me, are yours if you want it."

Choosing to ignore such weighty matters for the moment, Lavender moved first one delicate fingertip, and then the sensitive palm of her left hand, from Harry's ear down to just over his heart, ending with her hand flat against his chest, covering as much of the scar as she could. "It... no, it doesn't make you ugly."  
>Harry shrugged and turned Lavender back around to face the mirror. Emboldened by her own actions, Harry moved his hand- the whole hand- once more along the scar, ending with his palm cupping the upper half of Lavender's breast, everything not covered by her bra, as he whispered in her ear, "If my scar's the mark of a hero, what are yours? Even if you didn't finish Voldy, you were instrumental in bringing down Greyback, and I saw the way you were fighting before. Neville told me yesterday that he was scared of you, you know. He didn't want to give you instructions in the Battle because he thought you'd hex him for looking at you the wrong way."<br>Lavender couldn't hold back the giggle, "Neville? Why would I hex him? He'd flatten me in a duel as bad as you would, he's scary when he gets going."

"I don't know, maybe because he's too much a gentleman to fight back?"

Lavender's tone had changed from self-mocking to a tone he'd only ever heard from her once before, shortly before he'd blasted her across his bedroom in Grimmauld, "And what about you, Mr. Potter? Are you a gentleman?"

He gulped. "I guess I could be, if you wanted me to."

"So it isn't your natural state?"

Weakly, he shook his head.

"You know, I've made thirty-six men, wizards and muggles, have an orgasm. Ron was the first, without even really trying. I also kneed him in his goodies for copping a feel on my arse before I was ready."  
>Harry groaned, "Do we really have to talk about your history with Ron now?"<br>Watching his expression through the mirror, Lavender looked up coyly, "Well, no... I'm getting to my point, though. Do you trust me, Harry? Like I trusted you?"

Dumbly, he nodded.  
>"Well... like I said before, I've brought thirty-six men to orgasm. But I've never had anyone bring me off, it's always just been me on my lonesome. Do... do you think you could help me out?"<p>

"Er... what? You mean... you want me to..."

She giggled for several seconds at the dumbfounded expression he wore before moving back against him, bringing her body flush with his before pushing him back against the sink. Her arms wrapped around the one still circling her waist, "Yes, Harry. I want you to get me... I want you to make me feel pretty. I want to feel like you described me. I want..."

She trailed off, but he nodded in understanding all the same. "Well... I've never... I mean, Ginny said she did once or twice when we were, well, making out I guess, but... I've never, on purpose I mean."

Lavender shrugged against him and twitched her hips, grinding her buttocks against his stiff slacks. "There's nothing to it, really. Give me your hands, and I'll help you."

Placing her hands over his, she enjoyed watching his expression as she guided his larger hands onto her breasts, and moved his fingers as they slowly, clumsily began to knead. "Mm, yes, that feels good, Harry. A girl will want you to do more, sooner or later, but... but I think I'm not ready, so... over the bra, okay?"

Stiffly, he nodded. His attention was on her still subtly-gyrating arse against his manhood, and watching in the mirror as she helped him fondle her round breasts, just larger than his hands could completely grasp. Dimly, he thought they might match the firmness of a foam pillow as he squeezed.

After a few minutes of that extremely enjoyable activity, Harry's mind switched gears suddenly when she shuddered and pulled one hand away. "Okay, now you can switch back and forth with your left hand if you want... your right hand is needed elsewhere."

The tightness in his pants grew unbearable when Lavender brought his hand down between her legs to cup her mound completely. "Okay, Harry... pay attention here. I know it's _hard_, but this is important. You feel that bump on the top, center of your palm?"

He nodded against her shoulder and neck, unwilling to chance the embarassment of squeeking out a response.  
>"That's my clitoris. It's <em>really<em> sensitive. If you want to get a girl off, mostly focus on that. But don't touch it directly unless you have to, 'cause on most girls- including me- it's just too much if you work it directly. Instead, move the skin around it, and it'll..._Oh sweet Merlin_!

Harry tried to jerk his hand away, thinking he'd hurt her, but Lavender only pressed his hand against her tighter, "N- no, don't stop. Just... just keep moving in circles, right there, just like that... I... I..."

Speech degenerated to pants filled with longing and several low, throaty moans, not all of which Harry was convinced were coming from Lavender. On instinct, he lightly pinched one nipple through the thin cotton fabric just as the witch began to shudder against him.

"H- Harreeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

He was quite unprepared for Lavender to collapse against him, weak-kneed, so it was all he could do to slow their fall to the floor. She came to rest between his legs, chest heaving, head back against his chest underneath his chin.

"Merlin, Harry... I didn't think... _wow_. It's a _lot_ better when someone else does it for you!"

Harry didn't have the mental capacity to reply until Lavender questioned again, tilting her head up to look at him without the mirror, "Harry? Harry, are you all right?"

When she saw the half-mortified half-rapturous look he carried, a wicked gleam entered her blue eyes. "So, Harry... do you have a little problem? Is the solution _too hard_? I can help you, if you want."

His eyes closed and didn't reopen, but she could see the tension in his neck and jaw as he worked to keep from exploding. "Harry... if I... can I touch you? Please? I want you to feel like I do right now."

He didn't respond at all except to tighten his lips further. But Lavender was determined, now. Not to repay him for his gifts, but to help him heal from his own scars, to take one more step forward. With practiced hands, she unzipped his slacks and ran a finger up the gap before bringing her other hand in to unbutton them. Harry groaned at the light contact, but didn't resist.

She had to struggle a little to pull down his boxers and pants far enough to get access to his manhood, but thought that the results were worth it. He was no giant, but noticably larger than any other she'd handled. She wrapped one hand carefully around his silky shaft and slid it up and down once, twice, three times, slowly, while Harry gave a long groan.  
>"Harry... you don't have to fight it, you know," she murmured, "You just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I want to return the favor as best I can, that's all. It's only fair... so please, Harry, <em>please<em>, come for me..."

A part of Lavender had known for years that Harry, brought up by an abusive family (it was hardly a well-kept secret in Gryffindor Tower, given the the only Muggle clothes he had, amongst other signs) that he would be sexually repressed enough that a little dirty talk would send him over the edge.

But to be honest, Lavender wasn't just doing it for him. She wanted to please him, certainly, but deep down, the witch wanted to do it for herself, too. Wanted a return to being able to please a man because she _wanted_ to, not because she _had_ to. So when he finally gave a large shudder and released his seed into her hand, Lavender smiled and leaned over to plant her lips on his, feeling more fulfilled than she had even a scant minute or two earlier when he'd brought her over the edge of bliss.

Embarassment set in on the young wizard within a minute, though, interrupting what would have otherwise been the healthy afterglow of a heavy make-out session.  
>"Sorry, Lavender! I'll.. Er, just let me get my wand, and I'll clean-"<p>

"It's all right, Harry," she interrupted, but he ignored her.

Scrambling up, he opened the door and headed out into the kitchen, trying to decide whether to clean the residue off before he tucked himself in, or do the tucking first so he wasn't swaying in the breeze as he half-ran through the flat.

The whole thing set Lavender laughing, and she didn't stop until she'd washed the residue on her hand off, then the floor (from both his and her own fluids), and gone back into her bedroom to change underwear and pants.

In fact, Harry's face was literally red, almost like he'd overdosed on Pepper-up Potion, when she returned to the kitchen area, and he wouldn't even come close to meeting her eyes.

"Harry," she began, settling herself across from his spot at the table, just as she had before their late breakfast, "why are you embarrassed? That's normal, you know?"  
>He shook his head, but didn't look her way.<p>

_That vent thing must be very interesting, Harry._  
>"Do you think I'm mad at you?"<br>Harry shook his head.

"Are you... disappointed in me?"

Another shake.

"Upset at me? Angry?"

Another.

"Then why aren't you looking at me?"

He tried. She had to give him credit for that, because she could see the muscles in his neck fighting each other. But he still didn't turn more than an inch in her direction.

"Well... I guess I don't really know how to help, then. At least, if you can't tell me what's wrong. I suppose we can just muddle along until whatever it is fades, then, if it ever does. I'd hate to have this between us forever, though. I like having Harry my friend, not Harry the silent guy who won't even look at me for a flatmate."  
>His eyes closed and he looked further away at that, but he choked out, "It's not right. You... you don't have to do that for me. You aren't a... you aren't a whore, Lavender, and I never wanted to treat you like one."<p>

She sighed, "You didn't. When... when people are attracted to each other, and they both want to do it, it's not the same as when you get paid for it, Harry. I'm sorry if I thought that's all you wanted the other day, but I know better know. I'd forgotten what it was like to be one of Harry Potter's friends. But now I remember. I remember that... well, of all the guys in Gryffindor, probably the whole school in our year, or several up and down, you were probably the one most of the girls got off on in their alone time. Not just because you were the Boy-Who-Lived, either. You're damned fanciable, and I'm woman enough to admit that I was just one of many who fantasized about you. So there's obviously attraction on my end. You seemed to like it at the time, so I guess you're attracted to me, right? You were saying you were before, weren't you? Even with my scars?"

Harry looked up for the first time since she'd come into the room at the quaver in her voice. "No, Lavender, not even with your scars, almost _because_ of your scars. I didn't know who you were in school, and if it weren't for them, I probably wouldn't know now. But now I know the kind of person you are, inside. I... it's like they're a window into your soul. Pure white, but when you get angry, they turn red, showing the passion you feel, and..."

But Harry's ability to put his feelings into words seemed to have run out at last.

"Harry-" she began, but he started talking again at once, so quickly she could barely process it.

"I wanked to you in the shower! I'm no better than those- those _men_ that paid you, Lavender! I thought about you just like a piece of meat, just like they did!"

Silence reigned in the flat for several minutes, while both of them were lost in their thoughts.

Eventually, Lavender reached across the table and pulled Harry by the arm to face her. "Can you look at me, Harry?"

Perhaps reassured by her calm voice, or perhaps forcing himself to face his upcoming punishment head-on, the Boy-Who-Lived-Again finally looked up at her.  
>"Harry," she began, still holding one of his hands across the table, "I just told you I fantasized about you more than once during my alone time. What did you think I meant?"<p>

He shrugged, and the lack of guile in his expression made her sigh in frustration, not at him, but...  
>"Those Dursley people really did a number on you, didn't they? Harry... that kind of thing is <em>normal<em>. It's even expected! Hell, three years ago I was _proud_ to be one of the most-wanked-after girls in Hogwarts!"  
>Harry almost fell off his chair at the admission, but she didn't let go of his hand, and pulled him back down.<p>

"Look at it from my point of view, okay? Just as a mental excercise. In my dormitory, I had Hermione Granger, the smartest girl in the school, from day one. No competing with her brains, not even in Ravenclaw. I had Parvati, who even when we were just ten and eleven I know would grow up to be stunning, just like her twin sister. And that's a level of eroticism I won't even go into, because I've heard some stories about those two from Paravati herself."  
>Harry's eyes widened for a moment, but to his credit, he seemed to shake the mental images quickly, returning his attention to Lavender.<p>

"In the boy's dorms, there was tall, gangly Ron- a ginger. Girls dig red hair, Harry, or I'd never have given that jerk a go in the first place. Dean, tall and handsome, good with his quill... good kisser, too, according to Ginny. I wouldn't know. Seamus was okay, too much of a player for me, but he was still popular. The Twins and Lee Jordan, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, then Ginny below... I was average in every way except my looks. So I accentuated that as a way of proving I should be there. It worked, really well. I was surprised at how quickly I started to bloom- only Susan Bones beat me in our year, but her boobs are enormous, so how could I beat her at that?"  
>Harry flushed once again at the sudden topic shift, but Lavender quickly returned to arguing her point, "Anyway, the one thing I really had going for me was my looks, so knowing that most of the boys were getting off on me was... really thrilling, in a way. I often, when I was enjoying myself, wouldn't just think about sex or whatever, but would think about you guys thinking about me. So..."<p>

"So... it doesn't bother you?"

Lavender shook her head, "No... bit of a turn-on still, if you ask me. I mean, if we were dating and you wanked all the time instead of coming to me, that might bother me. But since we aren't... it's flattering in a way."  
>His eyes narrowed a little as he processed this information. Lavender wisely decided to leave him to it for a few minutes as she sipped her orange juice.<p>

"It... I used to do it a lot in school. Not just you, but Parvati too. Once both of you."

Lavender went a little pink, but replied in a whisper, "I did that once, too. I let her watch, told her I was thinking about her. In the baths. She joined in, but we never mentioned it again after. I guess it wasn't a big thing for her, but it took me about a week to get over my embarassment."

He blinked. "Wait... you mean, that time in fourth year when you two weren't talking for a couple of weeks?"  
>She nodded, "Yep. It wasn't until she started dating Marcus Belby after the New Year that she and I were okay again. At least, up until the Battle we had been."<p>

Once again, silence took over, but as the minutes stretched on and the sun began to creep low in the sky, Lavender made up her own mind.  
>"Harry... I'd like to try it, if the offer's still open."<p>

"Er, the offer?"

"About... about us."

His brilliant reply was limited to, "Oh." Unforunately, there was one more obstacle that sprang immediately to Harry's mind.

"Um, Lavender... not that I'm not, you know, ecstatic, but... there's something else."

The witch's face fell slightly, her shy smile becoming wooden and eyes dulling in remembered pain, or perhaps preparing for more of it, "Oh. What- what is it?"

"I... I wasn't just saying it when I told Ron about almost... almost killing myself."

He wasn't able to meet her eyes until a few seconds after her gasp, when Lavender had rushed around the table to pull him into a rather Hermione-like hug. "Oh, oh _Harry_... I never... I never thought it would have been so..."

He shrugged, slowly moving his arms around her, as if unsure she'd want him returning the gesture. "It... it hasn't even crossed my mind lately. I just... these _thoughts_ kept going through my head. My Dad. Mum. Sirius. Lupin. Tonks. Dumbledore. G- Ginny. Everone that died, died to protect me. I... I just wanted to see them again, one more time. Even though there was another way, I just... I knew they wouldn't want me to use it. So... so I kept thinking, over and over again, that if I just put my wand to my throat... a nice, quick _Avada Kedavra_, or maybe a Slicing Hex... and then I'd be... be able to see them again."

Lavender had wanted to punch him before he'd finished those hated words, the words that had already failed to kill him twice before, wanted to throttle him with the mention of a Slicing Hex to the neck, but by the time Harry's voice had petered out, she was only sobbing in untold relief that he had _not_, in fact, done the deed. She didn't even care for the reason.

"H- Harry, don't... don't think about that anymore. Never, okay?"

He gave her a little squeeze, "I... I don't. Not really. I mean, I want to see them. I do. But... then I keep remembering, more and more, that death is sad because of those left behind. That I suffer because they're gone. And if I was gone... who would suffer then?  
>"That... that used to make me happier, actually... but it doesn't, not any more. The Weasleys... Hermione, Ron, Neville, Hannah, Luna... y- you. I decided... the second day you were at Grimmauld Place, that it just wasn't worth it. You needed me too much then, and now... now I hope to Merlin that you <em>want<em> me too much. Does that make any sense?"

With a sad smile into his neck, Lavender whispered, "It makes perfect sense. But I promise you, Harry Potter, that I want you... and I still need you. More than I can say."

He was silent for a long time. Maybe hours passed before he spoke again, pushing her back a little so that he could look at her with hands on her waist, "But... I'm broken too. I just... you needed to know, before... before we got too far. So if you... if you want to stop now, I'll get it. I mean, I would understand."

Resisting the urge to giggle for once, Lavender grasped his hand again and said softly, "We both have issues, there's no denying it, but... but you make me happy in ways I can barely remember, and... and you said you feel good around me too, right? So... why not?"

He nodded with sudden fire in his eyes, but curbed it at once, at least a little, "But we still need to take it slow. I mean... I don't want to hurt you, or scare you, and really, this whole... this whole _sex_ thing is a little to new to me to want to jump into it, even if we've already done some stuff."  
>The blonde nodded, "Of course. Harry, I really... <em>really <em>don't want _earlier_ to be a one-time thing. Because, Merlin, it was amazing, but... I know. We're young, and it'd be too easy to fall into the physical aspect like we probably would have in school. But I like to think that if we take it slow, we'll be able to know for sure. Right?"

He nodded.  
>After a few more minute's near-silence as they adjusted to the thought of being together as a couple, they rose to go out for their first official date.<p>

**A/N2:** Be aware, all, that I am not going to be covering the date, or anything at all, for a few weeks in-story. Drama makes a story, conflict makes drama, and there isn't any of that for a bit. The last chapter begins just a few days before Christmas, after they've been dating- nightly- for a couple of weeks. They haven't 'done it' yet, and don't during this time. They want to develop their relationship naturally.  
>That being said, it's still a rather whirlwind romance time-wise. Their bond (and I don't mean a SoulBlood/Whathaveyou Bond, but the bond of shared tragedy, affection, friendship, and romantic feelings) is okay with that.  
>You'll just have to wait till next week to see how it all works out. :)<p>

Don't forget to read and REVIEW! :D


	10. Chap 10 Christmas Wishes

**A/N:** Well, here's the last full chapter. I'll be posting the Epilogue minutes (at most) after this, so as of today, the story'll be complete.  
>To the one who's been waiting for today (you know who you are): Happy Birthday in a couple. Hope it meets your expectations. :D<p>

**_Enjoy the final chapter!_  
><strong>

**Chap. 10 Christmas Wishes**

"Here, this one's for Neville too," Lavender said, handing Harry a small wrapped parcel to add to his own gift, "What're you writing the essay for? It's just a Christmas gift, Harry."

The wizard nodded, "But it's for Neville. Him and Hannah are just about our only wizarding friends, so... they deserve to know how we feel, right?"

Eyes rolling as she laughed, half-buried in wrapping paper and gifts in the flat's kiva, Lavender replied, "It takes you a foot of parchment to say, 'Nev, you're our best friend, and we don't know what we'd do without you'?"  
>Harry gave her a mock glare and went back to his writing.<p>

_ ... so you know where we are. We just didn't want you to worry, since I mentioned I might_

_ leave the wizarding world for a while. We're just taking a vacation, it'll only be for two_

_ weeks. Can you check on Kreacher, Grimmauld Place, and our flat once or twice while_

_ we're gone? Anyway, we'll miss you on Christmas, but we'll see you on January ninth_

_ when we get back, okay?_

_ Oh, how's Hannah? Have you two set a date yet? You seemed pretty cozy last night._

_ I might have had too much to drink, but didn't she mention taking over the Leaky soon,_

_ too? What about your job with Professor Sprout? (I still can't even think her name as_

_ Pomona! She'll always be Professor Sprout to me)_

_ Can you believe they want me to take the Potter seat on the Wizengamot already? I told_

_ Kingsley (The Minister- Damn, now I sound like a Malfoy!) I'd think about it when we get_

_ back. Maybe._

_ Anyway, see you soon, Nev. And thanks for being you... and all that sappy stuff we both_

_ hate. Hope you're getting laughed at by Hannah since you're probably blushing so hard!_

_ -Harry and Lavender_

"Harry, that's... that's sweet!"

He rolled his eyes at his girlfriend for sneaking behind the couch to read over his shoulder instead of getting a glass of water as she'd claimed. "I don't do sweet. Me and Nev are big, manly men. We only hug our girls, we don't like flowers, and if we have to touch, it's only to do a bone-crushing handshake."

Lavender snorted, giving the top of Harry's head a quick peck before jumping over the couch to sit beside him, "I don't believe that for a second! You don't buy _me_ flowers, you only buy flowers so you can look at them yourself! And you gave Neville and Teddy both hugs just this week, too! In fact, you've given your Godson more hugs this month than me!"

In retaliation for the (probably true, knowing her) accusations, Harry dropped his quill and proceeded to dig his fingers into Lavender's ribs as she squealed and kicked beneath his merciless assault.

Several minutes later, both were breathless; she laying beneath him staring upwards, he laying atop her, half his weight pushing into her. "Lavender..."

"Harry?"

"I want you. I mean..."

She grinned deviously, "I know you do, Harry. But you can't have me, not yet."

He groaned in frustration, dropping his head to rest next to hers.

"Patience, Harry... good things come to he who waits. Or so I hear, anyway."

"It's been... three _weeks_ since that time, and-"

"Ooh," she taunted, squirming in a weak attempt to get out from under him, "three _weeks_ from your first encounter with a woman, and already you're addicted! Whoever gets their hooks in you is going to have a field day whipping you into shape, bucko!"  
>Harry snorted, nuzzling her neck and taking the occasional nibble just to keep her partially docile, "I think your hooks are already filling the job, Lav. I don't want to take them out, either, even if they sting a bit."<p>

She giggled and pushed him off, this time he went willingly, if reluctantly. "So, where are we going, anyway?"

He shrugged, "I forgot."  
>A throw pillow crashed across his head, "Liar!"<p>

He laughed and threw it back, but missed. "Maybe, but you can't prove it!"

The presents lay forgotten for several hours as the two became even more lost in each other.

(O)(O)(O)

"So, did I surprise you?"  
>Lavender looked around, quite bemused, "Hogsmead? Your great off-the-grid vacation is in Hogsmead?"<p>

Wrapping his arms around her, Harry shook his head, "Nope. Close, but no. Look... that way."

Following his finger, Lavender could only make out a few turrets through the trees. "The Castle? You want to go to Hogwarts for Christmas?"

He nodded, "Some of my best Christmases ever were here. I want to share that with you, since you've never stayed as far as I remember."

The blonde sniffled a little as he led her through the gate and up the path. "Won't- won't we get in trouble?"

He shook his head, "Nope, already cleared it with McGonagall. We're staying in a room students aren't allowed in, you might call 'em guest quarters. We'll have Christmas Breakfast in the Great Hall with the staff and any students that stayed, take it easy for a day, and then go to the rest of the vacation somewhere else- somewhere warmer."

She snickered as he shivered, huddling closer to him as they trudged through three feet of snow up to the castle doors.

(O)(O)(O)

"Isn't this... isn't it the Room of Requirment?"

Harry nodded, "Yep. I had to have Neville check it for me, I wasn't sure if it'd work after Goyle's Fiendfyre burned out the Room of Hidden Things, but every other room works just fine, so... it'll work for us."  
>"You aren't recreating our aparment, are you? That'd be kind of silly to come all the way up here for that."<br>This time, he shook his head as he began to pace, "Nope- you'll see."

Harry gulped as she moved toward the newly-appeared door. Weeks of planning, a month of hard thought had brought him to this moment. It probably seemed crazy. According to Hannah, it _was_, but she had decided to stand by his decision. But that didn't keep him from being nervous.

He might have expected the butterflies doing a tango in his stomach to settle slightly at the gasp of surprise and joy. Instead, they seemed to double in their tempo.  
>With another hard swallow, he attempted to force down the lump as he followed her inside, gasping himself at the sudden shift in view.<br>"Where... where is this, Harry?"

"It's a place I went with Hermione last year when we were hunting for Moldypork's Horcruxes. We were trying to find the most out-of-the-way places, and this is the highest mountain in the U.K. Ben Nevis is the name of it, up in Scotland. We aren't too far from Hogwarts, actually, it's just a few mountains to the northeast."

Lavender turned that way, expecting to be able to see the castle from the spectacular view. As soon as they'd entered the door, they had been transported- as near as she could tell- to the rugged mountain peak, above the snowline, where only a frigid wind and silence existed, but the whole world turned below them.

"It's, it's _beautiful_, Harry," she murmured, turning slowly.  
>He smiled and pulled her close, "Not as beautiful as you."<p>

She giggled and held his arms close to hers, "So why did you make the room like this? I don't think you want to sleep in this cold."

He chuckled, "No, I just wanted to show you how you make me feel."  
>"Huh? That doesn't make any sense."<br>"Sure it does," he explained, "How high up are we?"

"I don't know. Pretty high, you said it was the highest mountain in the country, right?"  
>Harry nodded, his chin brushing Lavender's blonde hair as he moved, "You make me feel like I'm soaring even higher. You have for... almost as long as I can remember. It seems like everything before I found you that day is part of someone else's life, and everything after is... it's how I'm supposed to be. You make me the kind of person I always wanted to be, Lavender."<p>

She spun and held him tighly, fighting back the sobs, but she was almost terrified when he gently and slowly pulled away.  
>"That's why I... I..."<br>"You're going to break up with me, aren't you?"

"I- what? No!"  
>"But then- why did you bring me up here so no one could hear me crying?"<p>

Harry blinked and then laughed for several minutes as Lavender grew both more annoyed and curious. After a bit, though, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small brown velvet box and dropped to one knee.

At first she was confused, but before Harry had opened his mouth to ask the question he was terrified to ask, Lavender's hands flew to her mouth with a gasp. Harry thought her eyes looked much like a house-elf's. _She's cute when she's stunned. But when isn't she, really?_

"Lavender... I know it's sudden, and we've only been together for a little while, but I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else on this earth. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

The witch reached out a tentative hand to the ring in the now-open box. It was simple, celtic knots with a single small diamond in the center.  
>Then she jerked back her hand and glared at Harry, making his heart stop. "You'd better not be asking me just to get in my pants, Harry Potter!"<p>

"I- what? No! I mean... Of course I thought about it, I practically always am, but I really-"

She couldn't fight back her laughter over his horrified expression. Once she started to let them loose, she flung herself into his arms and began kissing him with more passion than ever before.

(O)(O)(O)

"And... right back to the Room..."

Again, the witch on his arm looked confused. Distracted for a moment by her swollen lips, Harry lost his focus on the new room and had to start over. When he pushed the door open at last, Lavender looked back up at him in surprise once again. "The Girls' dorms? How do you even know what they look like?"

He shrugged, "I didn't, I just asked the room for a copy of them. Thanks for confirming it for me, though," he grinned, "So... about what you said earlier..."  
>"Which part? The part where I agreed to your crazy question?"<p>

He snorted, "No, the _other_ part. The part where I want to get into your pants."

"Ah," she replied coolly, pretending disinterest, "that part. What about it?"

"Well... I do still want to."

"Oh, really? And do you think you're going to get it?"  
>Harry nodded as he started walking toward Lavender. Her arms were folded and posture stiff, but he could see in her eyes the laughter he was hoping for. <em>Faker.<em> As he got closer, Lavender began to back up, until at last she was up against one of the four-posters.  
>"Well, I only had two wishes for Christmas this year, and I already got one. Why not the other, too?"<br>She smiled, suddenly rose on her toes to kiss him, and dropped back down bashfully. "Idiot... that was my wish, not yours."  
>He laughed softly alongside her and pulled her close. "Do you know what my other wish was?"<p>

Her hair waved as she shook her head.  
>"I want to make a fantasy of mine a reality."<br>"Which one?"

"Well... if this was your dorm, which bed would have been yours?"

Lavender glanced around, "This would have been Parvati's, mine on the- your left- and Hermione on the far right. The ones between Parvati's and mine were Fay's and Lucy's."  
>Without a word, Harry swept Lavender up bridal-style and moved over to the far right bed before depositing her gently. "Do you want to help me with that, Lavender?"<p>

She shivered at the lust in his voice, then nodded, "Anything, Harry."

He smiled, "Good. In your wardrobe is a Hogwarts uniform- put it on. I'll be right back."

Lavender smirked as she started to get an idea of where he was going with all of this. _Still, might be fun... Harry Potter creeping into my dormitory at night to ravage me, my roommates none the wiser..._

When Harry came back in, she only knew he had because the door had opened and closed. Having now known about his invisibility cloak for several weeks (and that had cleared up a lot about his nighttime mischieve during their school years), she could guess as to why. Feigning sleep, Lavender rolled over to face away from him with a light moan. "Ooh... no, not there, Harry... not so rough, Harry... Hermione will hear..."

There was a whispered incantation in Harry's voice, and an auditory illusion of several people's deep breathing filled the room.

The bed depressed in one spot as he planted a knee to her left, then hands- still invisible through the crack of vision she allowed herself- gently pushed her to lay flat on her back, then pulled her legs to lay straight and her arms out in a relaxed position near her head on either side.  
>The weight on her left side decreased a little, then an equal depression on the right appeared, along with a wide line of warmth across her thighs. Harry was straddling her legs.<br>His voice appeared out of the shadows above her head, "Lavender... you're so fucking hot. I'm going to make love to you with your best friend and mine in the same room. I'm going to make you want to scream, but you can't, because if you do they'll hear you."

She swallowed, but didn't otherwise break her act.

His hands moved to either side of her head, cupping her ears, fingers twitching and caressing through her hair as he leaned in close, not quite pressing down on her, "I'm going to make love to you tonight, Lavender Brown. And there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Mm... Harry... so hard..."

She wasn't really acting, either. She could feel his manhood pressing against her abdomen quite clearly.

"Lavender, wake up. You're dreaming."

She didn't react, so Harry was forced to take desperate measure. He slid both hands up underneath her slightly too-small sweater and white dress shirt, caressing each finger lightly along her curves until he reached her breasts, then gave each a firm but not painful squeeze. "Lavender!" he suddenly barked, making her jump.  
>Her startled scream was smothered by his lips, his tongue suddenly dancing with her own.<p>

When he pulled away, she could feel the blood rushing to her face and neck, heat pooling between her navel and groin.  
>"Lavender," he whispered, "It's me, Harry. I'm so... I want you so bad. Will you let me make love to you?"<p>

"But Parvati! Hermione!" she whispered.  
>"I don't care! I only care about you, and how crazy you make me. Please, Lavender!"<p>

She nodded, "Only if I can see you. No cloak."

"I..."

"It's only fair. If we get caught, we both take the fall."

She heard him gulp audibly, and then watched the cloak fall in silver ripples, revealing Harry clad only in his boxers.

She smiled sensually, "I think I'm overdressed."  
>"Can I..."<br>She shook her head, sitting up quickly and forcing him back to the bottom of the bed, "No... but you can watch. No touching until I say, or you won't get anything from me tonight, Potter."

He frowned, but kept his hands to himself as she languidly stretched her arms over her head, taking the sweater with it.  
>Lavender was gratified that even in the dim light, his eyes tracked the sway of her breasts as her arms came down. She unbuttoned each of the golden clasps of the uniform shirt, but left it to hang barely open as she brought her hands down to the waist of her uniform trousers. As casually as she could, she lifted her hips and slid them down, making sure to leave the red-and-gold knee-high stockings on for his enjoyment.<br>Once she was down to just her knickers, she stretched out her arms to either side, teasing him with a glimpse, before giving in and removing the shirt as quickly as she could. Mimicing an innocent expression, she pushed her arms against her breasts as she leaned forward, glad she'd chosen the red lace he'd been so embarassed about weeks before when he flushed to nearly the same color.

"Do you like it, Harry? You can touch me now, if you want."

He gulped and nodded, then moved forward to push her gently down onto the bed again. "I want this, but... if you don't, I'll stop."

Understanding that this was not part of the act, Lavender smiled up at her new fianceé, "I do want it, Harry. This is a fantasy of mine to, and besides... I love you."

Relief flooded across his features, hiding the lust for a moment, before being replaced with something she'd been looking for since they had met again: Hope.

"I... I love you too, Lavender."  
>She smiled again, pulling him down into a long, gentle, but searing kiss, "I know, but it's nice to hear you say it." And it was. It surprised her how much those three words set her heart racing, far beyond the love-play they'd been working on for several minutes now. It was the first time he'd told her, true, but she knew he meant it. Harry Potter was just that kind of wizard.<p>

"Mushy stuff aside, Potter, I believe you have your schoolgirl crush below you, mostly naked and ready to get ravished..."  
>He grinned, "I'm still going to make sure Hermione and Parvati wake up to you screaming my name, Lavender- fair warning."<p>

"You're welcome to try, Potter."

He returned his hands to her ears, kissed her, then her chin, and continued by tracing his lips, pausing every so often to nibble on smooth or scarred skin with no care for the difference.

As the first time she had let him touch her breasts, he didn't completely uncover them, but he was much more sure of himself as he pushed, prodded, pulled and kneaded for a few minutes before resuming his trail of kisses down her stomach.

"Harry... as hot as this is, I've been waiting for you to work up the nerve for three weeks. I don't want to wait any more."

With a light chuckle, Harry skipped downward until his messy black hair was just above her panties. "Well, patience is a virtue, or so I'm told. It's my Christmas Wish, and it's going my way."  
>Her eyes rolled, but she didn't push him away. After all, she'd offered the same to more than one man. If Harry, the man she loved, wanted to return the favor... why not? No matter how embarassing it was.<p>

His first touches were hesitant, since this time Harry didn't have Lavender's hands to guide him. Hers were now occupied on her breasts, or occasionally stroking up and down her sides and stomach as she watched him. That alone seemed to be quite distracting as he watched her eyes between her heaving breasts for several seconds before going back to the matter at hand with a shake of his head.  
>"So... Sorry, I don't really..."<p>

With a little giggle, Lavender said, "Your tongue, Harry. Parvati said that's how it's done."

"Oh."

She blushed furiously as he slid the narrow strip of cloth to the side and peered through the shadows at her naked womanhood. _Thank Merlin I shaved, too. _

"Is... wow... I mean, a bloke's just got that funny dangling _thing_ between his legs, but you... you're so fucking beautiful, Lavender..."

It wasn't very surprising that her blush got worse, amusing comparisons aside.

But any thoughts of that were pushed aside within seconds of the first probing lick.

Harry knew he didn't have much skill, and had no experience, but he was determined to make up for it with drive and energy.

Inner folds, outer, only distantly noticing the quickly-swelling lips of her labia, Harry lathed Lavender's entire mound with his tongue for several minutes, delighting in his witch's pants and moans, which came with increasing volume and frequency as he continued. Even more, he was gratified with the quivering of her hips, which she seemed both unaware of and unable to control, until, with a rather louder than he expected gasp, the level of moisture on and around his tongue seemed to double in an instant.  
>Not knowing any better, Harry continued, still being careful to keep from direct contact with Lavender's nub, until the witch spasmed twice, and forcefully shoved his head back with both hands. "Stop! Stop, just... just stop..."<p>

Suddenly worried, Harry stammered, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean-"

"No, Harry," she reassured him, reaching up to invite him into her arms, which he did only hesitantly. Once close enough, though, she pulled him down atop her and whispered, "Merlin, Harry, that was... _intense_. I just... I need a minute to catch my breath, that's all."  
>He could almost believe it, with how hard she was breathing. "Are you sure? I mean..."<br>She nodded against him, still whispering, "Yeah... you know how you get sensitive after you finish?"  
>He nodded slowly.<p>

"It's the same for us. I just had a _huge_ orgasm, and you didn't even slow down, so... it was too much, that's all. In a minute or two I'll be okay again."

Harry relaxed a little into her arms and licked his lips. "I like the taste of you," he murmured after a while.

"Can I...?"

His eyes bore the question as he moved in, but she only smiled as they drew closer together.

As her tongue slipped across his lips and into his mouth, she had to agree. _Weird, but not at all unpleasant. Not really my thing, though. I guess I'll leave it to Harry. I'm not _that_ flexible, anyway._

They were still for a few seconds, until Lavender realized Harry's erection was literally throbbing against her stomach. "Harry... do you want me to go down on you?"

He pulled back at once, "No!"

A little surprised, Lavender had to ask, "I... you know I didn't mean it like when... when I was _working_, right? I mean because I want to."

He shook his head, "No, I know that... it's just... I don't think I'll last much longer, and if you... well... then I _know_ I won't last. And... and I want you to enjoy this."

She smiled again, "Harry... you might just care about me too much. I _did_ enjoy it."

"But... but I heard the first time, it's... it's a little bad. For girls, I mean."

Lavender nodded, "And it is."

"And you... unless you've already...?"  
>She shook her head this time, pulling him down for another kiss, "No, Harry, I said I haven't gone that far with anyone. But it's just a little pain, and then everything after is... well, it's supposed to be even better than that last one, although I don't know how you can top that."<p>

He pinked more than a little, but said nothing until Lavender whispered in his ear, "Now, Harry... I want you to take that big cock and give it to me. Give it to me hard and fast. Do it until you come. Come inside me, too. I want it, this time, to be just you and me. None of those weird, Muggle sleeve things, no potions, no charms... just you and me, just this one time."

"But... but what if..."

Lavender shrugged, making sure her still-erect nipples just grazed his lightly-haired chest as she spoke, "Then it does. You've already asked me to marry you, and I said yes. No one will think anything of it. Unless you don't want kids?"  
>He shook his head vehemently, "I do! I just... I don't think I'd be a very good father. I didn't have a lot of good role models."<p>

With another kiss, she replied, "But I think you'll be the perfect daddy. If you want children, and I want them too, then there's no issue just this once, right?"

Reluctantly- though she could see that fading to nothing as she watched- Harry moved a little lower until his head rested just slightly between her nether lips.

"It's okay," she breathed, "just do it. If you... if you want to wait after the first push, then I won't complain, but really... I just want to be yours, Harry. That's my only wish this Christmas."

He nodded, and then pushed in all at once.

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood- she could taste it even over the tang of her own juices from earlier- but didn't do more than whimper otherwise. As she'd asked, Harry was still for a moment, though she could feel him shudder with every second that passed as he fought the primal urge to _move_.

But as is the way of things, the pain faded and was gone (or at least faded until almost gone) within a minute, and Lavender, heart full to bursting and head dancing with images of the possible results of tonight, urged her lover, her one and only, to pick up the pace in the eternal dance of life.

Within a minute of resuming movement, Harry seemed to lose all control. She had been impressed with his ability to go slow, even if she was urging him to do it harder, faster. But then, as if a switch had flipped, instinct took over and the gentle, loving Harry was replaced with the warrior, the fighter, who took what he wanted from his enemies, and protected his friends from harm. It was wild, his eyes almost like an animal's as the pace increased, until his was pistoning in and out of Lavender's depths so quickly she could barely manage to breath before the air was crushed from her lungs.

But, as he cried out her name and pushed deeper than he had before, all the way in with his back arched backwards above her, Lavender's own mind was subsumed by the flood of another less intense, but more profound wave of bliss.

After a moment of shaking against her, Harry fell, barely able to control his fall to land mostly beside Lavender. He blinked a few times, gasping for air, while she rolled to face him, unashamed, and uncaring of the hot liquid that seemed to fill her belly, still dripped from his slowly-decreasing member, and that had started already to run down the crease between her leg and arse. "Harry... I love you, no matter what happens. You know that, right?"

He nodded, "I still love you too, Lavender. Always."

They shared one more kiss, before she laid her head down on his strong arm and closed her eyes.

**A/N2:** To be totally honest, I'm not all together happy with this chapter, but it does do the job, I think. It just felt... rushed. Not the relationship, but the last few paragraphs alone (the relationship was supposed to be a rather whirlwind romance from the outset). Ah well... I've agonized for more than a month now about how to fix it, and haven't pulled anything off, so I guess I'll have to settle for less-than-perfect.  
>Let me know (via PM or Review) what you guys think about it, yeah? If this is just 'The story is done so it must suck like all my writing' blues, I'd like to know about that too. lol<br>Epi coming up momentarily, of course. Until next time (which, at the rate I'm going, is going to be a few months tops for another HP fic completed), it's been a great ride- see you in line for the next one. :D

Don't forget to review, whether you liked it, loved it, hated it, thought it was 'ok', or whatever!


	11. Epilogue Arbitrary years later

**A/N:** I don't have much to say this time I didn't get in the main chapter, so I'll shut up and let you go to finish-

**Epilogue: An Arbitrary Number of Years Later (It's not 19)**

"Merlin's pants, Lance! Get back here right now, before your father notices you climbing underneath the train!"

She knew her husband had long-since spotted their oldest child, but that he was too busy loading the middle children- twins- onto the train, luggage and all.  
>"Dudley, are you sure Sammy has everything?"<br>Lavender smiled as she turned to greet the giant Muggle father and tiny Squib mother of her favorite niece, "Hey, sweetie! Are you excited?"

The blonde girl nodded so rapidly that her pigtails flew out to the sides, bringing to mind an old image of Hannah Abbot at the age of eleven, just before they both had boarded the train their first time. With a hug and a grin, Lavender stood, called back, "Lancelot Potter, if you get run over by that train, I'm _not_ taking you to St. Mungos, do you hear me?" before turning to Harry's cousin and his wife, "Sorry, Dudley, Suzanne, he's been a terror all morning. Are you excited?"  
>Dudley seemed unsure, but his wife was all smiles, "Oh, I'm so pleased, and you know it, Lavender! I mean, it was a surprise, but after hearing about Duddy's Aunt, Harry's mother's side of the family, it all made so much more sense. Now she's going to learn to be a great witch, like her great-aunt Lily and Aunt Lavender! What's not to be thrilled about?"<p>

She risked a glance at Dudley, and looked away with the impression that, while resigned, and whatever he and Harry's relationship (cordial, if not actually friendly), he would still have rather his oldest daughter had not been born a witch. _Oh well- guess it's just proof that Vernon and Petunia's drivel about magic being hogwash and worthless isn't true, is it, Dud? How could anyone as sweet as Sammy be worthless, anyway?_

"Oh, there you are, Big D," Harry called from behind Lavender, having finally gotten Lily Luna and Ginny Molly- twins, a surprise on both their parts when they'd found out- onto the train with their large trunks. "How's your mum and dad?"

The large father shrugged, "Mum's all right, enjoying Costa Rica. Dad's been working on his second coronary, of course. Complains about sweating every time he calls, but still claims to want to 'sweat it off' or something."  
>"Ouch. Well... I hope he doesn't have another soon, Dud. I know he means a lot to you."<p>

The larger cousin grinned, "That's really saying something, coming from you, Potter. I'll let him know you care!"  
>Harry snorted, "Don't press your luck, Diddy Dinkydums! I still know where you live," he finished with a laugh just as the train whistle blew.<p>

After it had begun to pull away carrying it's priceless cargo, Harry turned to Lavender, kissed her deeply just as he had the year before when Lance had first boarded the train (ignoring the catcalls from their younger son, Neville) and the eye rolls from Dudley, the wizard took a look around the still-crowded platform. His eyes met several old friends. Ron and Hermione, the latter teary-eyed at saying goodbye to her oldest even as she smothered the youngest with kisses, George and Angelina, quite pregnant with a daughter she'd already named Roxanne, Draco Malfoy and Astoria (neé Greengrass), and several others who he'd once- twice- given his life in trade for a new lease on their own, and he was glad.  
>While he would never count the Wealseys as his family- or at least closest family- again, they had eventually been able to grow close once more, the long history of affection and brotherhood overwhelming Harry's hatred for their own mistrust of Lavender.<p>

Neville and Hannah, he knew, would have been there as well if Neville had not been given the responsibility of guiding the first years on the traditional voyage across the Black Lake upon Hagrid's retirement the year before.

The teaching position had been filled by Luna's husband, Rolph Scamander, and the pair spent nearly every summer in the exotic places of the world, hunting for strange new species. Their first conquest had been the return of a living Crumple-Horned Snorkack, which she had taken great delight in introducing to Hermione, who had mostly fumed because of the loss of a hundred-Galleon bet to George over it.

With a grin as large as the world, Harry said his goodbyes to his cousin and Suzanne, a nod to all his other friends and acquaintances, before hitching Neville Jr. onto his shoulders, bent low to kiss Lavender again, and began to move toward the entrance to King's Cross Station.

Just that morning as he'd risen before dawn, Lavender had followed him into the bath, and with a light caress across his chest, mentioned, "Your scar's almost gone, and still fading."  
>He had nodded, "And yours. You healed mine, Lav."<p>

She had grinned, kissed him (which lead to a very long shower and nearly missing the train), and said, "It's not my doing, love, it's _ours_."

****A/N2:**** Well, that's it, the end of the end. Yeah, that was a (very subtle) dig at the canon epilogue's name. I've got nothing against it, mind, I just think it's amusing. For those curious or that didn't get it, their kids are, in order, Lancelot James Potter (Gryf), Lilly Luna P. (same as canon, Rvnclw) and Ginny Molly P. (that went a long way to healing the Weasley/Potter rift, too, Gryff), and there's a fourth- another boy- I never introduced, being sat by Andromeda since Harry and Lavender escorted Teddy to the train. His name's Sirius Lupin Potter, but he's only three, so...

Anyway, the last thing I'd like to leave you with is the inspiration for this fic (or at least, the trigger that caused said inspiration) for me- I happened to come across, totally by accident, the meaning behind Lavender's name. I have lost the website, but it IS "MLW" or something similar. If you know of a commonly-accessed site that provides information like this, let me know so I can credit where it's due, please.****  
><strong>**

****Name associations ****by MLW  
><em><em>"lavender" = from Latin "lavare" to wash (because the plant lavender is used to perfume things by being washed with them). <em>_

_In flower symbolism lavender symbolizes affection; cleansing; or concealment (something packed away can be said to be 'in lavender'). Lavender's herbal properties include the promotion of sleep and sound rest, another reason why sheets and linens were scented with it. _

_It is also the color associated with clothing made for elderly ladies._

In other words, she is cleansing Harry's soul and allowing him to rest, something he desperately needs in his life. The old lady's clothing bit doesn't mean much to me (not being an old lady), but I suppose if you were looking for a deeper meaning, it could imply that they'll still be happy when they're older... if you look at it squint-eyed. lol

_Anyway_, once again, I'd like to thank all the readers and reviewers. The fic would have been written without you, but it would have meant a lot less. While most writers write for themselves (I know I do), being able to bring a bit of happiness to the readers makes the effort well worth it all over again, even above and beyond the need to get the words out of your brain. So, if you've read and enjoyed, or even if you just read, drop me a line and let me know. It prompts me to write faster, and we all know that's a good thing. :)_  
><em>


	12. Author's Note and News

Well, apologies to everyone who got their hopes up- this is _not_ a new chapter. However, since I forgot to mark the story as complete (thanks to unsignew reviewer "Dan" for pointing that out), I can solve a couple of minor problems at once.  
>First, yes, the story (as evidenced by the last two AN2's) is complete, this is merely a note for you, the reader's, benefit and clarification.

First, story-related stuffs: As many of you know, I am a very open-door author. I respond to every review I can personally (only unsigned reviews, like the above, are skipped- because I don't like putting review responses in a given chapter; though there are, of course, exceptions).  
>So, feel free to ask for more information, a hint about what happens during the 'years later' (though I haven't fleshed it fully, I do have some story there), things you don't understand, etc etc. Either a review or PM (I have no preference- not being a review-whore, I don't want to pad my count unnecessarily, but then again, everyone else does, so... shrug whichever is easier for you) will get me to respond quickly- usually within hours, since I have an e-mail alert app on my computer, and check it several times through the day anyway.

Secondly, the same reviewer (Dan) suggested that I should write more HP fiction. Well, My Lord, I have some good news on that score. (Eww, channelling Yaxley... /shudder)

As some of the readers of my other fics (Naruto in particular) may have already read, and at least one reviewer, This is actually the _third_ HP-fandom fic I started working on. I have eight others in the works, in varying degrees of completion.  
>However, like <em>Blue-Eyed Doe<em>, I will not be publishing any of them until they're complete (or at least 90% complete). That's the only bit of bad news about that, though.

The good news is... wide-spread. Here's a list of what I'm working on, with some related relevant material for your brains (some, not all, is repeated from my Profile list, but this is currently more current).

**Post-Traumatic Stress**_:_ A canon-pairings story immediately following the Battle of Hogwarts. There are a few more character deaths during the story, but nothing epilogue-changing. The last remnants of Voldemort's government don't go quietly into the night, and that's all I'm saying about that. Though, they do have unusual tactics that I've never, ever seen (in now 8+ years of fanfiction reading), and I think people will be quite surprised- and surprised no one has thought of it before. :D

**Alternate DH1**: This is an (unnamed) story retelling Deathly Hallows and parts of HBP (via flashback), largely concerned with the nature of Horcruxes. ... actually, I may be combining this with the story below which is also an alternate DH... and the more I think about it, the more it seems a good idea. But for now, considering them separate. Basically, the premise of this one (I haven't worked on it much) is that each Horcrux is tied to one of Tom Riddle's emotions. As he made each one, he withdrew that emotion from his soul/mind/etc, making him both less human and less able to deal with those emotions when they are forced upon him. Here's my list of Horcruxes, their linked emotions, and what they represent to Voldy:

Slytherin's Locket:Romantic Love, turned to Jealousy (Ron, anyone?)

Nagini: Affection and care turned to overprotection (tenative for this one)

Hufflepuff's Cup: Contentment to Ambition

The Diary: Self-Worth to Pride (this and the locket inspired the concept)

Gaunt Ring: Unconditional love turned to Hatred (Ring symbolizes marriage, etc)

The Diadem: Love of Learning to Obsession/Addiction to knowledge (this would be a problem for Hermione, much like the locket was for Ron).

Harry himself: Self-sacrifice to... more self-sacrifice. Basically, Harry's natural martyr complex is compounded drastically by Voldemort's own (unwilling) sacrifice of himself to create a Horcrux out of Harry.

If any author would like to run with this idea, feel free- I wouldn't mind credit, though, since it's a unique (again as far as I know) thought.

**Alternate DH2**: Diverging from canon at the wedding. Basically, Ginny is near Harry when they Apparate away, and is able to grab his hand. This results in some minor splinching (Hermione didn't know she was coming until they'd already begun), but nothing on the order of Ron's later). Unable to return safely, Ginny, though underaged, is forced to accompany the trio. This causes several changes in the timeline- a stronger 'camping trip', because even wandless Ginny is dangerous (she later decides to start using magic anyway, since the Ministry hasn't been able to track them she figures it's safe). As well, the DA at Hogwarts has a much harder time without Ginny there to support and help lead them. For this fic (and most of my 7th-year or post-battle fics) you can consider the story told in the great fic _Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness_ to be canon- except where I state otherwise. I forget the author of that one, but it's a truly great fic I highly recommend reading.

**A Harry/Parvati** story that I've really only just begun. I have two beginnings and am debating which to use. They'd be very different stories by the end, but neither is better than the other and I don't want to re-hash the same pairing by doing both, so... it's gonna be just one. Concieved at the same time as BED, so it's likely to be similar in some ways, though earlier in the timeline.

A fic tentatively called** _Nympharmony_**- this is one I'm quite excited about, but am having a bit of a difficult time writing for several reasons. Basically, it's a Hermione/Harem, involving Neville, Harry, Ginny, Luna, and possibly a few temporary members (Lavender and Parvati).  
>The basic breakdown is- Hermione's a (diagnosed) nymphomaniac. She can't help it, she just has that itch that it's almost impossible to scratch, and it itches all the time. It starts off innocently enough (she's alone) and stays that way for a few years- she's just a kid, after all, of twelve-fourteen. After that, though, things start picking up with some experimentation with Lavender andor Parvati. Hermione decides she likes that well enough, but wants more- both an emotional connection (they are friendly, but not really friends, much like in canon) and something more... fullfilling.

The result is Ginny, who again is experimenting (less wildly), becoming something along the lines of Hermione's girlfriend. That's all it is for a year while Hermione starts quietly doing 'research' into Human Transfiguration.

Here's where I'm having an issue. I'll explain if asked, but the squick level of the story from here on rises considerably once she masters a certain bit of magic (which she developed herself), uses it on Ginny, and then teaches it to Ginny so she can do it back. This is happening in fourth year, mind. I have plans to continue it into sixth, where it will end (hopefully) well. It's just that one issue...

Again, PM me with questions, comments, or concerns.

**This next fic** is one I likely won't finish -ever- due to my own squick-factor going into overdrive. It's, well... a Ginny/Twins fic. Mostly a love-potion gone wrong. It was never intended to be much anyway, so I don't really feel bad about it, but incest is not something I'm really comfortable with. I don't know where the idea came from anyway. /shrug

A **Harry/Luna** fic (that starts more Harry/Hermione) involving a divergence in the "Occlumency" chapter of OotP. Basically, Harry tells Snape and Dumbledore "No" about the lessons. He knows he should learn it, but won't do it from Snape. Hermione learns Legilimency to teach him instead. Them raiding each other's brains trying to learn causes them to grow closer, and they start dating for a while. That goes through fifth year (nothing too serious), when the Ministry fiasco convinces Harry that he's not learning fast enough. Basically, while Hermione has mastered the spell of Legilimency, she's not that good at actually protecting her highly-organized mind (notice her lowest OWL score was Defense?). Not knowing what else to do, they continue until Ginny has a bright idea- and owls Luna to come visit before Sixth Year. She immediately starts training Harry (Gin's idea) about real Occlumency. Similar circumstances arise to before, and Luna and Harry start dating. I'm ending the story at sixth year, and they'll still be together till then, but I'm not sure if I'm going to have it stay that way 'after' sixth or permanently. Ginny, for her part, will be a bit jealous but likes Luna well enought to stand aside- she knows very well how difficult it is for the blonde girl to be social in any way. Harry and Hermione's break-up is both amicable and harmless to their friendship.

A **Harry/Hermione** romance loosely based on the first few chapters of _Witch Daughter_ and a similar fic that I can't find or remember- basically, on the night of the Third Task, Hermione goes to Harry to console him. She hadn't meant it to go _nearly_ as far as it did, she just wanted to rock him to sleep basically, but being a fifteen-year-old witch, at the very least emotional attachment to the wizard in question, and some admitted 'fanciable traits' or whatever, she allows her need to comfort Harry to override her good sense- and finds out she's pregnant shortly before Harry goes to Grimmauld Place that summer. Basically, that's the genesis fo the story. It's by far the most angst-heavy thing I've written (though it gets better later), and is becoming quickly AU. It also borrows several ideas (much changed) from other fics, such as Harry assuming his majority based on the Triwizard Tournament rules, being a parent, and the last member of a Diminishing House- not an Ancient and Noble (that's done too much) but a known magical bloodline with one last living member- him. Of course, several people Harry's close to (Ron, Ginny) don't take the news too well. At least Dumbledore and McGonogall (and a few others, like Bill) are supportive more than anything else. Right? ;) This is currently the fic I'm writing fastest, but I'm still just starting it five chapters in. It's likely to be quite long.

Lastly, a **post-battle fic** where Ron dies (similarly to how BED killed Lavender, though I'll probably just kill Ron instead of Fred). Hermione, who had _finally_ found love is a bit distraught. She attempts to kill herself during the summer, but is saved by Harry who just 'had a feeling' based on her last letter. Her parents tried to stop her, but couldn't match her magic.  
>Harry then brings her- for her own safety- either to the Burrow or the Grimmauld Place (maybe both, there are pros and cons either way- the Burrow has both good and bad memories, etc).<br>While there, she, the Weasleys, Harry, and Ginny in particular, work toward healing the poor girl while Harry and Ginny resume their own relationship (they aren't shagging yet...) where they left off.

But at Hogwarts, back again for their seventh year, Hermione and Ginny have more troubles than before. Harry has accepted (for one year and one year only, he swears, nothing to do with the curse...) the DADA post as an adjuct professor. An Auror is taking it officially, but as he's old and all-but retired, Harry teaches most of the classes.  
>Ginny and Harry are forced to pull back on their relationship (a year apart and BFGF or not, he's still her teacher- So Sayeth Prof McG). As well, Hermione starts to latch onto Harry as the only male friend who's never left her.

At first, Harry and Ginny both resist, but eventually, give in- allowing Hermione one date-date to convince Harry that she's the one for him.

Obviously, that's not how it works.

I don't want to give away too much more, but this is going to end H/G/Hr.

And hopefully, that's all the HP fics I'll be working on in the near (or ever) future. It's more than I'd originally intended. Lol

Anyway, sorry for the longest AN in history (it's not, I checked- not even my longest), but at least it should answer some questions for you. As always, don't hesitate to drop me a line- but while I do take suggestions, I don't take requests. So be polite about it. 'Till next time!


	13. Petition End Tyranny Nao!

First, apologies to all who thought their favorite stories were being uploaded- not quite yet. I'm working on them still, of course, but this is something I feel can't wait for an A/N. I never thought I'd be doing this instead of a chapter, but... desperate times and all that.

A personal note:

The below petition is not my creation, but I wish I'd thought of it. As many of you readers are no doubt aware, there has been a recent crackdown on lemons on Ffnet, a site many of us know and love. Now, I am fully aware that lemons violate the ToS. I've known it since before I wrote my first fanfiction, and since before I posted it- here. That being said, lemons in fanfiction have been around a long time. Longer than this site has. Longer than I've been alive, and I'm one of the older ones that frequent the site (but by no means the oldest).

However, I willfully violated the ToS in that regard (with a lemon) for one reason. It may not be 'the right reason', it may not even be a good one, but to me, as an author and creator (because as the author of this petition said, we _are_ the creators of our own original plots, events, characters, and works and we own them legally just as the canon authors own their own works), it is enough.

To me, a lemon can make a good story better. Yes, it can also make a good story (or a bad story) worse. However, do you cut off your arm because it is scratched, or even mauled? No, you get it treated.

Expecting us, as authors, to cut off a piece of our creations because someone, somewhere, in the faceless, anonymous masses of _everyone_ was offended? Just... no. I won't stand for it. If Fanfiction (dot) net is willing to kowtow to a few vocal people, then I say the vocal _masses_ stand up and make _their_ voices heard.  
>Personally, I have long wished for an anti-yaoi filter. Regardless of all arguments, it's not something I enjoy reading and wouldn't even skim through if I had my choice (think how much easier your searching for a new story would be either with or without that alone!).<p>

Adding another rating- the below-mentioned "MA" is perfectly servicable, though I'd choose something different so there isn't any confusion with "M" (X has rather negative connotations, but would also serve just fine given the nature of what we're talking about).

These are just simple corrections that would take (and I know enough of coding to be sure this is accurate) a few man-hours to do, and a few more to check it doesn't mess anything else up. In all honesty, it should take seconds.  
>And yes, instead, countless man-hours are devoted to deleting other's creations, often the only copy of said creation in the world? I don't think that's right at all. It doesn't even make <em>sense<em>, because so much man-power and man-hours are being wasted when another fix is so easy.

The last suggestion is even better- a (still free) but age-verified membership, where lemons (or other graphic stories that may well pass beyond accepted 'M' ratings) are allowed? Seriously, why _not_? Is there a good reason? I can't think of any.

And to the people running Ffnet- whether a corporation, a few individuals, or whatever- I know I'm not alone when I say that making the wrong choice here not only _can_, but it _will_ cost you the entire reason for the site's success. I don't expect you to turn your site- which I have always, until now (and I still do in most ways) respected- into another "AdultFanFiction" site. But in the end, isn't this site about the fans?

-InfiniteDragon

If you care please copy, sign and post this.

Petition:

I, along with many, have been writing and posting on your fine site for years now, some of the better examples of up and coming writers out there are now suddenly finding some of the stories we've come to love at risk of being removed without the chance to even rectify our errors.

For some, that means the permanent loss of a story. While I don't have anything that (I believe) violates your terms of use, there are those out there that are never able to recover a story in it's original form, this is something that I find to be almost worthy of a legal action, as while we cannot claim ownership of a character, the stories are OURS and simply destroying them is something that is inexcusable.

It's quite easy to simply add an MA rating, additional filters or even a simple requirement for a free membership to read the stories presented here, and would cut down on hateful anonymous reviews and posts at the same time, so I have to question as to why such a thing, in all this time, simply wasn't added.

If you're worried about falsification of a registration then have an appropriate disclaimer and then there can be no dispute, you took your steps and the PARENTS didn't monitor their children, if that is even your concern. If it is more of a personal view or desire then please at least let people know and give them a chance to remove a story that you and yours find offensive, most people on the site are actually rather cordial when it comes to such requests.

While I cannot say for sure if this letter will even reach those that may be willing to listen, of if it's more akin to a wide spectrum purge in preparation for something bigger, please understand that you are going to be losing a LARGE number of your writers, and thus your income from a lack of readers if there is not some level of action taken to help with this situation.

For those that may agree with this, please feel free to sign on and send this to the support server, maybe we can get some movement on this.

(Personal: I was led to believe this was a site for the fans. Meaning we can upload any kind of material, as long as it stuck to the criteria given to us before an upload. Or instead of simply getting rid of pretty much the best stories on the site, LIMIT the amount of yaoi on the site. Or at the very least have its own place in the filters )

Forum. Fanfiction topic/111772/63683250/1/#63698621

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InfiniteDragon


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